Riddle Me This
by RadioactiveDuck
Summary: This is the story of Tom Riddle's years at Hogwarts, before and during the time he starts to become Lord Voldemort. Pre HBP.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Rowling, and the rest is mine. I am not Rowling, just to clear that up with y'all. If I was, I would be laughing at this pathetic attempt of fan fiction. xD

* * *

_Mister Tom M. Riddle,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

The pale, scrawny boy read over the letter clutched in his hands and snorted derisively. Yeah, right, a school for magic? He'd eat his non-existent hat before he ever believed that one.

At age ten, Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn't exactly the pride and joy of the London Orphanage. Truth be told, he was too smart to fit in with kids his own age, and the older children all despised him for always managing to worm his way out of trouble. Administrators had always turned a blind eye towards trouble caused by the orphans, but at the insistence of the Headmaster they made sure Tom stayed out of it.

Tom had been playing a game of chess against the headmaster, Mr. Cowin, when the official-looking letter had dropped down onto his head. He'd regarded it with indifference for a moment before opening it and letting his eyes scan the page. He glanced at Mr. Cowin with his dark eyes, wondering if the man was behind this prank, as he didn't seem too perturbed by the fact a letter had just been dropped on his head.

"What have you got there, boy?" Mr. Cowin's hazel eyes never left the board in front of him as he spoke, moving his bishop a few squares diagonally and taking a pawn in front of Tom's king.

"Just a stupid hoax by one of the other kids; it's nothing of importance." Tom crumpled up the letter in his fist and stuffed it into his pocket, returning his attention to the game at hand. He smirked upon realizing he had the headmaster beat in a matter of six moves.

"Are you sure about that?" The headmaster waited until Tom had moved his knight between a pawn and another knight before speaking, and then moving his bishop once more.

"Yes, I'm sure. It was about a stupid school to go to and learn magic. No doubt they wanted me to come to you or one of the others and tell you about it, thus ensuring I was locked up in an insane asylum and out of here for good." Tom spoke in a voice laced with venom and anger, frustration making him move his queen to a guarded square where it was promptly taken from him.

The headmaster clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, a habit that young Tom was picking up.

"May I see your letter, Tom?"

The boy squinted at the headmaster from behind his curtain of long hair, finally pulling out the letter and handing it over. It was read quickly, a smile coming to Cowin's lips as he finished it. Looking back up at Tom, he said nothing for a few moments, wondering how best to phrase his words.

"It is just as I suspected. Upon your coming here, Tom, I received a letter from a man named Armando Dippet, explaining to me that you were a child with an unusual gift. You are a wizard, Tom, and this school is where you will go to master your gift. I hardly believed it at first, but it was proven to me when the man made my chair levitate, and since then I have been waiting for them to contact you.

"You see, Tom, over the years I have been monitoring your behavior very carefully. You may not have noticed it, but certain things tend to happen without you realizing them when you are angry, upset, or scared. For example, do you remember last year when a whole flock of birds shat on the boys that were picking on you in the yard? Or how after your lunch was stolen you always got it back? I am quite convinced that it was not just coincidence that made these things happen."

Tom gaped at the man. Was he out of his mind? Then again, he did recall wondering how all those strange things kept happening to him. And there was that one time with the snake…

"Are you telling me, sir, that I'm a wizard?"

"In a few more words, yes," Cowin smiled at him once more, moving his rook down beside the boy's king. "Checkmate."

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A/N: Right, just a few things to say before you go. First off, I am aware that this chapter is extremely short. I apologize for that, but I figured it was a good place to end. Secondly, updates should be regular. I wrote up a whole bunch of chapters before I started posting them to avoid the whole "Nooo! Another five weeks before she updates!" thing. And I just wanted to mention that this will be going through all of Tom's years at Hogwarts, and feedback would be very nice. (Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.)

Thanks to my mother (yeah, I'm not too cool to speak to her) and Hannah for being my betas.


	2. Chapter Two

The first of September found Tom Riddle hauling his trunk down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express, brand new wand in the front pocket of his freshly-ironed shirt. He glanced into every compartment that he passed, trying to find one that was empty, or at least had students his own age. Near the very end of the train he finally found one with a solitary boy sitting inside, mulling over a magazine. Tom opened the door to the compartment and stepped inside.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. "This is about the only non-crowded compartment."

The platinum-haired boy looked up from his reading material and sneered. "You're not a muggle born, are you?"

Just the way he said it made Tom cringe, and he quickly shook his head, not wanting to be kicked out of the compartment already.

"Of course not," he claimed.

"Good. I only speak with purebloods; it's like a law or something." The boy patted the seat beside him, and after Tom lifted his trunk onto the luggage rack, he took a seat. "I'm Vincent by the way. Vincent Malfoy. And you are?"

"Tom Riddle." He stuck out his hand, and the two shook. Malfoy quickly returned his icy hues to the magazine he was reading, leaving Tom up to his own devices.

His mind wandered back to Diagon Alley, remembering the joy he'd felt upon gazing down the alley for the first time…

_Shops had been crowded on either side of the street, and what had seemed like hundreds of people were out shopping. The stores had all been packed, wizards and witches crowding inside in their odd garb. Children and adults alike called to one another as they passed in the streets, making it difficult for Tom to hear his guide, but he was able to understand the gist of it._

_Their first stop had been what appeared to be a bank, though it was manned by surly- looking goblins. Tom had traded in a few notes for some galleons, they'd been called, enough to "last him at least a year or two," as his guide had put it. Walking back out amongst the crowd, Tom had been amazed upon looking into each window as he passed it. There were such items on display that he'd never seen before, and then the more familiar ones like books and scales. In one store he'd even seen broomsticks, for what purpose he could only imagine. _

"_Since we've got your money, the next thing you'll be needing is a wand. Mind you, you can't use it 'til you get on over to Hogwarts, so just be keeping that in mind, ya hear?" The man looked down upon him before pushing open the door to the one shop that didn't appear to be brimming with shoppers. A bell rang somewhere in the back of the store, and the short, heavy set man standing behind the counter craned his neck around to see who it was. _

"_I will be with you in a moment," he called. He disappeared behind shelves lined with small boxes for a moment before returning, one of those small boxes held out in front of him. "Here is your replacement wand, Miss Hadjwacki. Please do try to be careful with this one, as well." _

_The girl blushed scarlet and fished a few silver sickles from her pocket, handing them over to the wizard before leaving the shop. It was then that Tom was called forward, and he approached the shop owner nervously. He stood on his toes in order to see over the counter, nose pressed against the polished surface and eyes wide._

"_First year at Hogwarts, I assume? Well, then, you've come to the best place for a wand. Try this one out." He took a box down from one of the shelves and opened it, revealing a wand about the size of Tom's hand from wrist to tip of his middle finger. "Ash, eight inches, unicorn hair. Go on, then, give it a wave, Mister…?"_

"_Riddle. Tom Riddle." Tom took the wand from the man and, feeling like a fool, started to wave it around in the air. Nothing happened._

"_Hm, well then, that's not for you." The man snatched the wand back and reshelved it, handing the boy another one. "Try this one, then. Mahogany, ten inches, dragon heartstring." _

_Tom took this one, too, and waved it around. Still, nothing happened. The man shook his head as he took the wand back, this time searching around for a little bit before taking another box down and handing the wand to Tom._

"_I do believe this one may do the trick. Try it out; yew, eleven inches, with feather from a phoenix's tail." _

_Immediately upon grasping the wand Tom felt a surge of power flow through his arm and all the way down to his toes, green and gold sparks shooting from the tip of his wand. They illuminated the dimly-lit shop only slightly and were gone after a moment or two. Tom looked to the man with two raised brows, as if wanting him to confirm that sparks had just shot out of a piece of wood. He still wasn't quite sure he believed all of this, and thought it was all a cruel dream he'd wake up from and be back in the orphanage at any moment._

"_Very good! This wand has chosen you, Mister Riddle. That will be one galleon and eight sickles." Tom fished around in his pocket for the money needed as the man put his wand in a box, wrapping it up and handing it over to him in exchange for the coins. "I do hope you enjoy your years at Hogwarts." With a smile the man departed to the back of the store, leaving Tom and his guide to walk back out into the crowded streets of Diagon Alley._

_Their other stops all seemed to be a blur to Tom, melding into each other as he bought robes, books, a cauldron, and other such items that he would need. It was a confusing haze of colors and sounds as they walked along the streets, though Tom did remember quite clearly the incident at the pet shop._

_He'd been gazing into the glass tank containing a snake at the time, staring into those large yellow orbs that never seemed to blink. The snake's tongue kept flicking in and out, in and out, hooded head swaying to and fro to a rhythm only the snake could hear. Tom was mimicking the snake's movements with his own head; completely oblivious to the crowd he seemed to be drawing. The snake hissed at him, and he hissed right back at it, drawing a gasp from the assembled crowd._

_All too soon it was over, with his guide yanking him away from the snake cage and over into one of the less-crowded aisles of the store. _

"_What do you think you are doing!" His hands were placed on Tom's shoulders, and he shook the boy with each word he spoke. "You can't go around doing things like that, you insolent little child!"_

_Tom gaped at the man as he was shaken, finally managing to break free of his grip. He didn't understand why it was such a big deal, and finally sighed._

"_Okay, I won't do it again. I'm sorry. I didn't know it'd be such a big deal." Tom mumbled his apology, head bowed as if in shame._

"_Let's just get out of here," his guide said, glancing frantically over his shoulder._

"_But I want a pet…I want to take that snake to Hogwarts with me." Tom couldn't explain it, but he'd always felt a strange attraction for snakes, and having just connected with that one did nothing to lessen it. His voice rose into a whine. "I want a pet!"_

"_Fine!" His guide snapped at him, whirling around and letting go of the arm he'd been dragging him by. "Get a bloody pet! But snakes aren't allowed at Hogwarts, so you'll need something else." He was practically glaring at the child._

_Tom smirked at the man and wandered off in the store, staring into cages that held other animals. There were all sorts of them there, ranging from toads, to rabbits, to owls. The one that caught his attention most was a litter of kittens sleeping curled up next to their mother, and he stopped to stare down into that particular display. With a smile he reached into their pen, scooping up one of the darker kittens and hugging it to his chest. He was careful not to squish the kitten as he brought it to the counter to pay for it, happily following after his guide after getting a small carrying case for his new pet…_

"Are you a first year, too?" Malfoy's drawl brought Tom back from his memories with a start, and he looked to the blonde boy for a moment in confusion. Quickly recovering himself, he replied.

"Yes, yes I am. Looking forward to coming here for _ages_," he added. Something about this Malfoy kid put Tom on edge, and he figured he'd make a good friend.

"Well, I hope we end up in the same house, then. It'd be nice not to have to start all over again. I'm going for Slytherin, myself, and you?"

"Same." Tom tried to sound as nonchalant as he could, as if this whole thing was a breeze for him. He'd read over a few of his books during the week he'd had them before boarding the train, but had found very little information on the different houses. That was probably due to the fact he'd not read _Hogwarts: A History_, but oh well. He could bluff as well as any.

Malfoy smirked at Tom before once more returning to his magazine, and Tom idly gazed out the window at the passing countryside.

Around noon a witch appeared in their doorway with a trolley of sweets, asking if they'd like anything. Both boys bought a handful of sickles worth of items, dividing the hoard amongst themselves as the train barreled down the tracks. They ate in relative silence, save for the few times one or the other of them exclaimed over a flavor of bean they'd gotten. Tom had quickly learned to avoid the peach-colored ones.

It was growing dark when the train started to slow. The two boys glanced at each other and shrugged, but before anything could be said a girl appeared in the doorway to their compartment. She was older than them, probably by a few years, and had reddish blonde hair with bright blue eyes.

"We're to be arriving at Hogwarts any moment now. The two of you should start getting your robes on. Don't worry about your trunks; the house elves will deliver them to your dorms." She smiled at them and then departed, and Tom cocked a brow. House elves? How would they know whose trunk was whose, anyway?

With a shrug Tom stood up on his seat to reach his trunk on the luggage rack, opening it up and diving inside to find his robes. He pulled them out and shut his trunk, and the two boys changed into their robes, placing their wands inside their pockets. By the time they were done the train had stopped completely, and people started cramming into the corridors to get out. Tom reached once more towards his luggage rack, finding his kitten that he had yet to name and placing inside one of his rather roomy pockets. He grinned and followed Malfoy out onto the platform.

"This way, first years! First years, over here!" The voice was hard to hear above the shouting of the students, but Tom and Malfoy did eventually find their way over to the woman shouting. She was a short woman, with a stooped back and graying hair, a pair of spectacles perched on her nose. She spoke in a nasal whine that sent Tom's hair on end.

"First years!" she continued to shout. "Come this way! Right, is this all of you? Good. I'd like to be the first to welcome you all to Hogwarts. If you'll please follow me, I'll lead you up to the castle." She turned away from the assembled students and started walking; passing the last of the carriages that had taken the older students to the castle and moving instead towards a giant lake.

"Step right up now, four to a boat. Hurry, hurry; we haven't got all day. The sorting is to begin soon." She ushered the first years into the boats waiting at the shore. Tom and Malfoy were joined by two giggling girls that kept shooting what they thought to be furtive glances at the blonde boy, but neither paid Tom any attention. He grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, pretending not to care and gazing into the dark waters of the lake. Already, he could feel his isolation starting.

The boats crossed over the lake without incident, passing underneath what Tom could only assume to be the bottom of a large castle. He'd caught a glimpse of the whole thing a while earlier and gasped, along with the rest of the students. The two girls in the boat with him were only deterred for a moment from their chatting, and after the initial shock had passed went right back to flirting with Malfoy.

At the far end of the lake the small rowboats docked themselves and the students clambered out, one managing to trip over the hem of his robes and fall knee-deep in the lake. Tom smirked at the boy that tripped before following the rest of the class up the stairs, none of them bothering to help the redhead. They were lead into the castle itself and through a pair of large double-doors, towards a tall man with a long beard and twinkling blue eyes. The woman that had brought them this far disappeared through another set of doors, and all eyes went to the man.

"I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, deputy headmaster here and transfiguration teacher. I would like to welcome to you all to Hogwarts. The ceremony will begin in a matter of moments, and you will all be sorted into one of four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Your houses will be like your family during your stay at Hogwarts. Your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule breaking will lose them. At the end of the year the house cup will be awarded to the house with the most points. I wish you all a grand stay at Hogwarts. Follow me." Dumbledore turned and led them through the doors the woman had entered moments earlier, and once more a collective gasp was heard from the students.

They had entered a room that was as large as the whole of the London Orphanage, and Tom's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he looked around. Four long tables were parallel to each other down the center of the room, with a fifth suspended on a sort of dais that overlooked the other four. At the fifth table were assorted professors of varying ages, the youngest appearing to have just graduated from a university and the oldest looking near a century. The rest of the tables held students eager to be back, chatting amicably amongst themselves and to the ghosts…Wait, ghosts? Tom looked again. Sure enough, there were no less than two dozen ghosts milling around the place, seated between students and gazing longingly at the empty golden platters and cups.

Tom reached into his pocket to find his kitten, stroking its soft fur to steady his nerves. One of the first years to his right gasped and pointed up, and Tom followed suit. The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered with tiny pinpricks of light, obviously the stars that were outside right this very moment. Clouds passed over the full glowing orb in the sky, and Tom looked down to see that the kids in front of him were moving. He hurried to catch up, walking down the center of the hall between two tables and to the large cleared-off area of the Great Hall. In the center there was a stool, and Tom fell in beside Malfoy and the two giggling girls from before in the semi-circle around the stool.

Dumbledore seemed to conjure a hat out of nowhere, placing it on the stool and stepping back a few feet. All chatter ceased almost instantly, and every single eye was focused in on the hat. A moment of silence passed, before the shabby hat tore itself open from the brim, and it started to sing.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindor apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuff are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap._

The hat drew its song to a close, and the hall erupted in applause. Tom stared in disbelief for a moment or two before joining in. The applause died down eventually, and Dumbledore cleared his throat, taking a piece of parchment from his robes with a flourish.

"I will call you forward one at a time. You are to seat yourself on the stool and place the hat on your head, and you will be seated into the proper house.

"Ashcroft, Blythe!"

A pretty young girl with bright blue eyes, pale skin, and straight black hair hurried forward to the stool, seating herself upon it and placing the hat on her head. There was a moment of silence, and then…

"_SLYTHERIN!"_

The table to the far right burst into applause, and the girl removed the hat from her head and approached the table, seating herself at the end beside an older student.

"Asotin, Joseph."

"_GRYFFINDOR!"_

And so it continued, with Dumbledore calling out names and the students stepping forward to place the hat upon their head. Tom grew even more nervous with each student called; stroking the kitten inside his pocket in hopes that it would calm his nerves. Malfoy was called forward, and sure enough the hat barely grazed his head before it shouted _"SLYTHERIN!"_

He took his seat next to the Ashcroft girl, and one of the giggling girls from the boat was called forward. She was sorted into Hufflepuff along with her friend, a few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were called, and then it was Tom's turn. He walked slowly up to the stool and hat as if it would bite him, placing it carefully on his head. It was too large for him, falling down past his nose and leaving him blind. Clutching the stool so hard his knuckles were white, Tom silently prayed he was placed in Slytherin with Malfoy.

"_You have a great aptitude for learning, boy, and some very strange gifts,"_ the hat whispered in his ear. _"Not exactly Hufflepuff material…Not Gryffindor, either, with that malicious streak running through you…Ravenclaw or Slytherin would be the best bet…And what's this? The actual blood of a founder runs through your veins; I was wondering when this would turn up…_

"_SLYTHERIN!"_

The last word was shouted for all to hear, and a relieved Tom slipped the hat from his head and placed it on the stool as the Slytherin table erupted into applause. He walked towards his table, taking a seat on the bench across from Malfoy and grinning broadly. A nod was given to the Ashcroft girl, and then he turned his eyes back to the sorting. It finished quickly after that, with Zilcox, Dagon (_"SLYTHERIN!"_).

Dumbledore removed both stool and hat from the hall after rolling up his scroll, and took his seat beside the other professors at the head table. The man next to him stood up, clearing his throat loudly for attention.

"I'm glad to see that all of you have returned safe and sound this year. There are a few things I would like to mention before we enjoy the welcoming feast. First and foremost, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that: forbidden. For no reason are any students to venture inside of it. First years are not allowed to own brooms, and any found in the possession of one will have said broom confiscated. And, lastly, a number of items have been banned from the castle this year. A full list can be found on the house message boards. On a better note, enjoy the feast!" A clap of his hands filled the empty platters in front of the students with food, the tables practically groaning under the weight. The man speaking, obviously the headmaster, sat down beside Dumbledore, and students and teachers alike dug into their food.

Tom ladled everything within arms reach onto his plate, cramming the food into his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in ages. And it was all so good! He picked up a pork chop and cut off a small piece of it, glancing around to make sure no one was looking before placing it into his pocket to feed his kitten. He was sure it was hungry, having been cooped up inside its cage and Tom's pocket all day.

Eventually Tom saw fit to engage the others in conversation, and turned to the Ashcroft girl with a half-smile.

"Hi, I'm Tom. Tom Riddle. Is your family all decedents of founders, too?" The hat's words had come back to him in that instant, and he couldn't stop them from coming out. Ashcroft cocked a brow in his direction.

"No. Why, are yours?" Her voice was as pretty as her face, and looking closer Tom saw that she had a small amount of freckles dotting her nose. There was enough to add some characteristics, but not so much as to make her look like one of those girls turned ugly from staying out in the sun too long.

"That's what the hat said." Tom shrugged his shoulders, as if it didn't matter anyway. He took another bite of his steak and kidney pie.

"Really? You must be Salazar's kin, then; he was founder of Slytherin. I can't wait to tell my mum I'm friends with Salazar's heir!" She grinned broadly at Tom before turning back to the boy on her right, Dagon Zilcox.

The feast ended soon thereafter, and the first year Slytherins were lead to their common room by one of the prefects, or so they'd called themselves. They followed the boy from the great hall into the dungeons, the temperature dropping the farther they walked. Many were shivering by the time they turned another corner and came to a dead-end, but the prefect stepped forward and turned to address the first years.

"This is the sight of the Slytherin common rooms. The password is Mandrake. You are to tell no one outside our house where our rooms are located, else face the wrath of myself and Ilene." He jerked his head in the general direction of the other sixth-year prefect before turning back to the students. "You will be told each time the password changes. I recommend you remember it, or you'll be left outside to fend for yourself." That having been said, the sixth year turned to face the stone wall once more, and uttered the password. There was a grating sound as the stone wall slid open, allowing all the students to pass through before closing behind them.

Tom took a look around the common room, and smiled. Green leather couches and chairs were sprawled around the spacious room, with black end tables placed next to them. There was a large fire roaring to one side, and Tom caught sight of two staircases leading up to what he could only assume were the different rooms. The boy that spoke before lead the first year boys up one of the stair cases, and Ilene lead the girls up the other one.

"These will be your rooms during your stay at Hogwarts. Your trunks have already been brought up and placed at the foot of your bed. If you need anything, please hesitate to ask." He sneered at the lot of them before walking out and shutting the door behind him, leaving the five boys alone in their new room.

"Who're you two?" Malfoy asked the two boys they hadn't spoken to at dinner.

"Stephen Weasley. And this here is Scott Weasley. We're twins, in case the lot of you are too dense to pick up on that." The one who'd spoken, Stephen, smirked at the three other boys.

"Weasley?" Dagon asked. "I've heard that name before. You're Frank's boys, aren't you? He's my dad's boss at the ministry."

"Yeah, that would be us. Now if you don't mind, we're tired and going to bed. Goodnight." The two brown-haired twins turned their backs on their room mates, changing into their night clothes and climbing into bed. Their green bed-hangings were drawn closed, and they promptly drifted off to sleep.

"We might as well hit the sack as well, class starts tomorrow and all. See you in the morning." Dagon smiled and clambered into his own bed, Tom and Malfoy following suit.

As his room mates snored softly in their respective beds, Tom folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, Blythe's words coming back to him.

_Salazar,_ she'd said, _was the founder of Slytherin._

Tom smiled. Salazar would be the perfect name for his kitten. Rolling over onto his side, he drifted off to sleep within moments.

* * *

A/N: Just pointing out that the Sorting Hat song was from the first book. 


	3. Chapter Three

Riddle Me This: Chapter Three

* * *

Tom was up bright and early the next day, throwing back his bed hangings and breathing in the fresh morning air. Though his rooms were in the dungeons, there had been a window charmed into the one wall, and looking outside he could already tell it was going to be a great day.

Pulling on his robes (the Slytherin crest had been charmed onto the front during the night), he combed back his dark hair and glanced in the mirror. Grinning at his reflection, and ignoring the rather crude comment the mirror shot his way, he turned back to his bed and made it, placing the sleeping Salazar onto his pillow. He stroked the kitten's soft fur for a moment before leaving the dorm, wand placed in his pocket.

He took his time walking to the Great Hall, stopping to take in the sights every once in a while. He even chatted with a portrait of an old woman for a quarter of an hour, intrigued to learn she'd been hanging around since the school was founded. This Tom took a great deal of interest in, and promising to stop and continue their conversation the next time he passed by, he resumed his trek to the Great Hall.

"Great place, isn't it?" Tom spun at the sudden voice, glancing down the hall to lock eyes with Blythe. She was standing a few feet back, and offered him a shy smile as she stepped towards him. Her gaze dropped to the ground, suddenly becoming interested in a scuff mark on her shoe when she realized she was staring.

"Mind if I walk with you?" she asked.

"Not at all." Tom returned her smile and they continued to walk down the hall. "And yes, it is a great place. I hardly dared to believe it would be this spectacular."

"I know what you mean," Blythe agreed. "I mean, my mum told me all about her days here, but I'd always thought she'd been exaggerating at least a little bit."

"Did your dad not come here, then?" Tom asked.

"What do you mean?" If her words were spoken a little too quick and defensive-like, Tom paid it no mind.

"You said your mum told you what it was like and you'd thought she'd exaggerated. I'm assuming that because you did not check with your dad to see if it was the truth, he did not attend school here." He shrugged as the two entered the Great Hall.

"Oh…Right. He, er, died…when I was really young." Her hesitation was just slight enough for Tom to not pick up on it.

"I'm sorry, Blythe, I didn't know. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. There's nothing to talk about. But thanks." Her smile was back, and she led the way over to the Slytherin table, sitting once more at the end. There were very few people up already, but by the time Tom and Blythe had enjoyed their breakfast of buttered toast and eggs students started trickling in a handful at a time.

Malfoy and Dagon joined them at their end of the table, helping themselves to a plateful of bacon and sausage. The group of four remained quiet as they ate, each deep in their own thoughts. Soon enough there were a few of Blythe's room mates clambering to sit beside Malfoy, giggling amongst themselves and sending glances his way. Disgusted, Blythe ignored the girls and tried to start up a conversation with the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's house ghost.

A woman, a professor by the looks of her, was moving along the Slytherin table, handing out schedules to the students. She reached the group of first years at the end and lay down the rest of the schedules before them, not bothering to hand them out individually.

"All of you be sure to get a schedule; you're all in first year and have the same classes so there shouldn't be any differences. Just take one. And do try not to be late to your classes; I'd like to take the house cup once more this year." She turned on her heel and left the Great Hall, presumably to prepare for her first class.

Tom snatched up a schedule for himself and Blythe, running his eyes over it and smiling in anticipation. He was anxious to be learning the magic already, and turned to glance at Malfoy. The blonde boy was still eating his breakfast and flirting with the girls, so Tom turned instead to Blythe. But before he could even get one word out there was a sound like hundreds of wings flapping, and dozens of owls swooped down from the ceiling, dropping letters and packages off to various students. It was no great surprise to Tom that he didn't receive any mail; who would be writing to him besides Mr. Cowin anyway? And even he couldn't write, not having a way to deliver the letter in the first place. Tom would have to see what he could do about that.

Turning once more to Blythe he noticed that she, too, had received no mail, and was still reading over her schedule, occasionally glancing up at the head table. She felt a pair of eyes on her and turned to Tom, once more arching a brow. It seemed to be a habit of hers.

"You want to head back to the common room and grab our bags before History of Magic?" he asked her.

"Might as well. Don't want to be late, and it'll probably take a while to find the place. You coming, Vince and Dagon?" She turned to address the other two boys.

"Yeah, sure," Dagon said. Malfoy just shook his head.

Tom shrugged and the three stood, each taking their schedule and heading back to their common room to grab their bags. Sure enough, it did take them a while to find the History of Magic room, though they managed to arrive before the rest of the class. They chose seats towards the front of the room, Tom sitting between Dagon and Blythe. The bell rang and students wandered in, taking their seats and placing parchment, ink, quills, and books on their desk, looking towards the front of the room expectantly.

A few minutes later an extremely old and tired-looking man walked in, carrying an armful of notes and a briefcase. He set the briefcase down his desk and turned bleary eyes to the students, a flick of his wand conjuring a podium in front of him. He placed the notes down on the podium and gazed out at the room.

"I am Professor Binns. I will be teaching you History of Magic, dealing with straight facts. Homework is to be completed on time and placed on my desk at the beginning of each class." Binns spoke with an annoyingly monotone voice, and any hopes Tom had of finding this class exiting were completely dashed as the professor began his lecture.

By the time the bell rang to signal the end of class, the only students left awake were Tom, Blythe, Dagon, and one of the Gryffindors in the back of the room. Professor Binns didn't even bother looking at his students as he left the classroom, assigning no homework that first day. Nudging Vincent awake, the four first years found their way to their next class, Charms.

The group of four made it to class just before the bell rang, taking the empty seats near the back of the room. Their teacher was a tall, slightly balding dark-haired man that waited silently for the class to settle down.

"Thank you," he said in a deep voice. "I am Professor Sweeney, Charms teacher here at Hogwarts. Our first few lessons will be on basic wand movements and incantations, and only after I believe you all have mastered that will I begin the practical lessons."

There was a groaning from the class, and Professor Sweeney smiled.

"Yes, yes, I know it is boring stuff. But, fact it, you need to know it. So if you could all open your text books to page three, I shall begin the lesson…"

Class proceeded much as History of Magic had, though all of the students managed to stay awake this time. On occasion Professor Sweeney would ask a question, and the student that answered correctly received a few points for his or her house. The only students paying no attention what-so-ever were the two giggling Hufflepuff girls from the boat sending goo-goo eyes at Malfoy. To his credit, Vince didn't respond or even glance their way, but Tom still rolled his eyes and pointed it out to Blythe and Dagon.

The bell rang and the students were dismissed, heading off to the Great Hall for lunch. It had been yet another class they had no homework in, and slightly more enlightening than History of Magic. At least they were learning things relevant to actually doing the magic this time.

The Slytherin group of four headed back to the common room first to retrieve the things they'd need for Herbology before going to lunch, and Tom took a moment to prod Salazar awake. As Dagon and Vincent left the dorm to go meet up with Blythe, Tom lingered behind for a moment, holding the kitten in his hands.

"It's been kind of odd so far, Salazar. Y'know what I mean? I thought we'd be able to start learning magic right away, but so far it's just been taking notes on whatever the teacher chooses to lecture us on. I sure hope Herbology is better, but since it's dealing with plants it probably won't be." Tom shrugged. "I still don't get the big deal about being a muggle born or pureblood, but I'll just ask that portrait later, I guess. You have a nice nap, Salazar. I'll be sure to bring you some dinner later tonight." He placed the kitten back on the indentation in his pillow and picked up his bag, trotting down the stairs to see his three friends waiting impatiently by the entrance to the common room.

"Took you a while, there, Tom," Malfoy said. "Wadja do, fight off some muggles that were invading your room?" He and Dagon snickered as Blythe rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, guys, let's get going already." She turned, and the three boys followed her out of the common room, trooping down the corridors and to the Great Hall. A gaggle of girls swarmed around them as soon as they entered the hall, trying their best to get Malfoy's attention, though he'd have none of it.

"I'm hungry ladies, please make way."

Obediently they obliged, and a spot was cleared off at the Slytherin table for the four to sit down.

"Gee, Vince, you've already got a fan club," Blythe pointed out dryly. "Next thing you know they'll be sneaking into your dorm and stealing your knickers." She rose her voice into a falsetto squeal, _"Oh my god! I got Malfoy's worn knickers! I'm going to keep them in my pocket for good luck!"_

The boys guffawed at Malfoy's expense, Dagon spitting pumpkin juice from his nose and spraying the third-year sitting across from him. She shot a glare at him, but Dagon didn't notice, snorting in laughter as he was.

"Malfoy's worn knickers! HA!" He pounded a fist on his table, clamping his lips together to hold back the laughter. "Sell them and earn hundreds!" he sputtered, and the laughter overtook him again. He fell backwards off the bench he was laughing so hard, and the three first years around him were now laughing at his expense.

It took a while for Dagon to calm down, and he still wasn't completely back to normal by the time they got to the greenhouses for Herbology. He wore a giant grin, and many of the students around him couldn't keep from wondering what it was about. He turned almost completely somber when the Ravenclaws they had class with approached, catching sight of another pair of twins that looked completely out of place.

They were male and female, identical down to the last white dread in their hair. Tom wasn't sure how he knew the one was a girl, but he did nonetheless, and held in a snicker at their appearance. Everything about them was completely white. Their skin was as white as a dove's feathers, lips and hair the same color. Under their robes Tom even suspected they wore all white, though he never got a chance to ask. Their eyes were about the only thing on them that wasn't white besides their school robes, and those were just as odd. Both of their eyes were a dark red in color, narrowed in distaste as they realized they were once more being stared at. Ah, well, it was like this back home, too, so they shouldn't have expected anything different.

"Hey, look!" Malfoy drawled. "Albino freaks!" The Slytherins burst into laughter, save for Blythe way in the back. Even if she'd felt inclined to make fun of their appearance as everyone else did, she could have cracked a better joke than Malfoy hands down. She shoved her way through the crowd of Slytherins to approach the twins, but as she opened her mouth to speak the Herbology professor made herself known.

"Children, children! This way to greenhouse one!"

_Oh god_, Tom groaned; it was the lady from the boat. Already she was grating on his nerves. Speeding up to a light jog he caught up with Malfoy and Blythe, Dagon trailing at his heels as they headed over towards the greenhouse.

"Too bad Professor Falsetto here had to ruin our fun," Malfoy said. "I'm sure you were going to put those two freaks in their place with some well-placed comment about their muggle parentage." He smirked at Blythe, but she stayed facing straight ahead.

"Yeah, too bad." Maybe it was Tom's imagination playing tricks, but Blythe didn't sound too put-out.

"How'd you know that they were muggle born, anyway?" Dagon asked.

Malfoy turned to sneer at him. "First of all, it's completely obvious the way they were hanging around that half-blood, Sean. If they'd been purebloods the other Ravenclaws would have jumped to their defense. And, anyway, I heard it from that snotty prefect guy today at breakfast after you'd left. They have an older sibling in his year, Jack or Jackie or something."

The troop of first years reached the greenhouse, and their conversation was cut short by the professor clearing her throat loudly.

"Attention, please. I'd like all of you to choose a seat, two to a bench. Hurry up, be quick about it."

The students scrambled to find seats with their friends, Tom and Dagon managing to snag a bench together. The Weasley twins paired together, and two of Blythe's room mates shared a bench. Malfoy took the left over girl, leaving Blythe with no one from Slytherin to pair up with.

"You two," the professor said, gesturing to Blythe and the female albino twin, "take that empty bench over there. Come now, we need to get class started!" Blythe and the girl slowly walked towards the bench, taking their seats and looking at anything but each other. Tom felt a pang of sympathy for Blythe, but it dissipated as soon as the professor started speaking once more. He was too busy trying not to cringe as her nasal, whining voice rolled over him.

"Welcome to your first day of Herbology. I am Professor Sanchardry, and head of Hufflepuff."

Glancing around, Tom saw that he wasn't the only one offended by her simpering. He nudged Dagon in the ribs and the two burst into silent laughter.

"…taking it easy, today, and starting with the proper precautions to take around magical plants. Can anyone tell me…?"

Over in the corner of the greenhouse, Blythe tuned out from the teacher's drone, turning slightly to face the albino girl beside her. She whispered out of the corner of her mouth, careful to be subtle enough to not draw attention to herself.

"I'm sorry about what Malfoy said earlier about you and your twin. I tried to get to you two, but Sanchardry decided to show up before I could," Blythe said apologetically.

"It's really not a problem," the girl whispered back after a long pause. "We got it all the time back home; should have figured things wouldn't change."

"Still, though, he's a really shallow prick. My mum went to school with his dad, and she told me they're all the same. I'm Ashcroft by the way, Blythe Ashcroft."

"Tocelas Rogozen. My brother is Tobias, and the kid he's sitting with is Sean Kaldrian." Tocelas gestured towards where her brother sat with the redhead that had fallen in the lake. "Were muggle born, and Sean is a half-blood. That won't be a problem, will it?" Blythe wasn't very surprised to hear the scorn and sarcasm in Tocelas' words.

"Not at all," she affirmed.

"Good." Tocelas and Blythe shook hands, and turned their attention back to the professor.

Tom had noticed the exchange out of the corner of his eye, and chanced a glanced back at the two girls with a questioning look. Blythe and the girl both ignored his gaze. Unfortunately, Professor Sanchardry did not.

"Tell me, Mister Riddle, what is it that you find so fascinating in that corner of the greenhouse?" Tom slowly spun back to face the front of the room, only to find that the professor has appeared right in front of his workspace.

"Er…" Tom fished around for something to say. "I was just admiring the Devil's Snare over in the corner, and wondering when we'd be studying it."

"I see," said Professor Sanchardry. "Tell me, Mister Riddle, what physical attribute about this plant tells you that it is getting old in age?" She was obviously trying to trip him up and make a fool of him in front of the class. But Tom would have none of it.

"Well…" Tom stalled, thinking back to the book he'd read on it. He remembered the Devil's Snare section specifically, mostly because he'd thought it was a fascinating plant. And what boy wouldn't admire a plant that chokes the life out of all it comes across?

"The leaves, first of all. They are drooping slightly, and on most plants that signals a sign of aging. The color is also a dead giveaway. Can you see how it is a rather pale green, and even graying in places? Young Devil's Snare are very vivid in color, usually starting out as a deep, rich green and fading as it ages. And lastly, Professor, you do not keep it contained in any way, shape, or form. Had the plant posed a real threat to any of us it'd not be in this greenhouse at all. Old as it is, it is much akin to a cougar or lion without any teeth; a lot of bark, but very little bite."

Tom smiled at the professor, and he could see the thoughts rolling through her beady little eyes, wondering how she'd been shown up by a first year.

"Good, Mister Riddle. I see that at least one of you have managed to crack open a text book this summer. Ten points to Slytherin." Her words were curt, and she swiftly turned to walk back to the front of the greenhouse, frowning as she did so. A shake of her head and she restarted her lesson.

"Teacher's pet," Dagon muttered good-naturedly to Tom. He grinned.

"Knickers," Tom muttered back. Dagon burst into laughter once more.


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Right, so, I don't really want to waste a lot of time with Author Notes, but I felt like this had to be done. I started this story WAY before HBP came out, and Rowling really made me angry when she put in stuff about Tom's background. I already had this started and like it too much to trash it now, so I'm continuing it as it is. Don't like it? Bug off. No! Just kidding! I've already started another one that is in canon with HBP, so that'll be up eventually. Most of the characters will remain the same 'cause I'm a dork like that, but that's okay. -Grin.- Anyway. On with the story.

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Riddle Me This: Chapter Four

"I have a question to ask you, Katrina." It was early the next morning and Tom was once more speaking with the portrait, sitting on the ground in front of her and craning his neck back to look at her. He'd woken up early especially for this, not wanting to be interrupted in the middle of his conversation.

Inside the frame, Katrina was lounging on a black loveseat, fire flickering merrily and lighting up the bookshelf in the background. A book lay open on the end table, obviously Katrina's current pursuit. Though she'd long since died, her thirst for good literature had yet to be quenched.

"And what would that be, Tom?"

"Well, I'm not sure exactly how to phrase is…You see, I was sorted into Slytherin house, which is renowned for holding only purebloods, or so I've been told. Why is it such a big deal that some children come from muggle families?" Tom glanced at his watch. Good, there was still some time before the rest of the castle would wake; long enough for him to get the answers he needed.

"That's a bit difficult for me to answer, Tom. I'll need a minute to find where to begin…

"Long ago, there was a large gap between muggles and wizards. Everyone was a pureblood, and even the thought of settling down with a muggle was offensive. They were just so primitive. As the years passed, they started to develop new things in the technological department. Things we'd have never thought of. Then troubled times came. There was a plague that swept through Europe, and even our strongest magic could not counter it. I believe the muggles called it the Black Death. Half our population was gone, probably more, and to stay alive we were forced to marry the muggles. We'd looked down upon them for so long that it was frowned on, and many of the older, more powerful families thought it would have been better to die off. Magic started sprouting up in all sorts of odd places, and there were those like Salazar that thought we should not allow muggleborns into Hogwarts, claiming their blood was dirty. Of course, the other three founders didn't agree with him and allowed them, but he would only accept the purebloods that thought like himself into his house, and they became more segregated. And so the hostility between the purebloods and muggleborns grew through out the years."

Tom nodded. "So this whole separation between purebloods and muggleborns dates way back, and no one exactly knows why anymore," he concluded. "What can you tell me about Salazar?"

Katrina laughed.

"I can tell you practically anything you want to know about the man. I," she said with an air of importance, "was his lover and confidant."

Tom gaped. "That means…That means that you're my great, great, great, great (I can go on and on) grandmum!"

Now it was Katrina's turn to gape, jaw slack and eyes wide.

"How do you know that?" she finally asked.

"The Sorting Hat said so. It said I had the blood of a founder running through my veins. Having been placed in Slytherin, I'm assuming it was Salazar. If you were his lover, that means you're also my kin. Right?"

"Yes, yes it would. I bore his only child, a boy we named Sebastian. At least, I do believe it was his only child…Do me a favor, will you, Tom?"

"Anything," Tom chirped.

"Do you have any free periods today?"

Tom pulled his schedule from his bag, glancing down at it and nodding. "Yes," he confirmed, "right before dinner."

"Excellent!" Katrina exclaimed. "During that time, I want you to go up to the library and see if you can find a book on the founders' family trees. There should be one, of course I can't remember the name, which adds the people all by itself each time the line is continued. Ask Miss Thao if you need help – she's the head librarian. Drop by before dinner and tell me your findings."

"Yes, ma'am," said Tom obediently. "One more thing before I go, though."

"Hmmm?" Katrina looked up from the book she'd already resumed reading.

"Can I still call you Katrina?"

"Of course, dearie. Now run along." She smiled at Tom's retreating back.

His first class that day had been Double Potions with the Ravenclaws. Tom noticed immediately that Blythe sat with the one albino girl, and he made a point to sit behind the two with Dagon. It was a good five minutes after the bell rang that the professor swept into the classroom, black robes billowing behind her. Like all Slytherins she had a flare for drama. Turning to address the class, Tom noticed that she was the same lady that had been handing out schedules yesterday.

She couldn't have been yet in her thirties, with curly brown locks tied back with a piece of black ribbon, pretty face held clear of hair. Her features were just a tad bit angular, and Tom couldn't help but wonder what mix of blood she had in her. It almost reminded him of the house elf he'd stumbled across this morning, but of course that was absurd. Her eyes were the lightest shade of brown her could imagine, almost golden in hue.

"Class!" she barked at them, and the students that had still been chatting immediately quieted. "Good. I expect you to be silent each time I am to start the lesson. I don't have much patience for time wasting or stupid mistakes, and it would be best if we could refrain from making stupid mistakes by shutting our mouths, no?"

She walked forward to the first row of desks, scooping up one of Blythe's room mate's (Tom thought Amber was her name) books. "This book was on your supply list this year, so all of you should have it. There was a slight problem in my Advanced Potions class where a student forgot his book. I am warning you now that if you are not prepared for class do not bother coming. I do not accept late homework for any reason, and any homework that is in such poor handwriting I cannot read will automatically receive a zero." She placed the book she'd been holding back down on the desk, turning to face the large blackboard behind her. A flick of her wrist filled the board with large, blocky letters.

"Copy down that sentence. When you are done, open your books to the index and find the correct information. This assignment is to be completed by the end of class and on my desk before you leave. No talking. Begin."

Tom copied down the sentence on the board in a neat, precise script, and flipped to the back of the book to find the section on the dangers of mixing a potion wrong. Tom sighed; there were fifteen pages on it. This would take up most of the class period. Turning to the right page in his book, he dipped his quill in the ink pot and began to write.

_Under the topic "The dangers of mixing a potion wrong," there are two broad categories one can write about. The first category actually deals with mixing the potion wrong, by that meaning stirring, and the second is about adding the wrong ingredients in the wrong order…_

The professor sat at her desk grading papers for the first hour of class, occasionally glancing up from her work to survey the students. It was silent, just as she'd asked for, and for that she was glad. She knew the time was coming when she'd no longer be able to command silence to a group of students, and the way kids were being brought up these days it would be soon. Her head turned as she heard someone whispering, and she stood, walking towards the sound.

"Excuse me, Miss…?" The professor stopped in front of the source.

"Snider, ma'am. Meg Snider," the offending girl said quietly.

"Yes, Miss Snider. I do believe I asked for silence, don't you? Because, had I not, it would be entirely too easy for you to have this boy you're sitting next to do the work for you. Is that not correct?" The professor seemed to smile in amusement. All eyes had turned to her and Meg by this point.

"That is correct, Professor," Meg mumbled.

"And that, Miss Snider, would be cheating, would it not?"

"Yes ma'am."

"May I see your paper, Miss Snider?"

Meg looked up. "What?"

"I'd like to see your paper, to see how much you got done," The professor repeated.

"But, I…"

The professor didn't wait to hear Meg's excuse. She snatched up the parchment the girl had been writing on, letting her eyes scan over the paper. And then she smirked, and it was such a horrible smirk that Meg just knew she was in for it. Already she was ducking down in her seat, as if by doing so she'd become invisible.

"This, class, is what Meg Snider has written so far for her paper. _The dangers of…Vincent, Vincent, Vincent with a heart around it, Vincent, Mrs. Meg Malfoy, I heart Vincent…_My, my, it even comes complete with a very nice drawing of our dear Vincent."

Meg had turned scarlet by this point, placing her hands over her heated face as she slouched even lower in her chair. She could not believe this was happening to her. Vince, sitting next to her, had turned a light shade of pink, but Tom was not sure if it was from embarrassment or something else. He was pulled from his musings as the professor thrust the paper back towards Meg.

"I expected better from a Slytherin, Miss Snider. Five points from Slytherin and you serve detention with me tonight after dinner, during which time you will re-write your paper for half credit. Do not be late, or you will receive another detention."

Meg nodded her assent, and the professor moved away from the scarlet girl towards another bench of two. She continued to move around the room as class proceeded, occasionally stopping to read over a nervous student's shoulder. Upon reaching Tom and Dagon, she stopped behind them, tutting as she read Dagon's paper. Before she could turn to see Tom's he was standing, walking towards the front of the room. Placing his paper down on the professor's desk he returned to his seat, offering a pleased smile to the professor. To his surprise, she actually smiled back before moving on.

Class ended in much the same way it had with the other three he'd been to so far, with no homework from the teacher. Tom was assuming that the only reason they didn't receive homework was due to the fact that they'd written that paper in class, but he might very well be wrong. He shrugged as he shouldered his bag; all the better for him, then, because he had to do some research for Katrina anyway.

As he and Dagon were about to step out into the corridor, the professor called him back.

"Mister Riddle, I'd like to speak with you for a moment."

Tom nodded for Dagon to go on ahead, and turned back towards the professor, walking over to her desk.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I am very impressed by your work, Tom. I was able to read part of your essay on the dangers of mixing potions wrong, and it was one of the best I've read since I began my job here. You see, the subject I give my first year classes each September is purposely vague. It is my way of gauging the depth and seriousness of their desire to learn, and usually their capability as well. The students that take the easy way out and are just as vague are usually those that do poorly in my class. However, students like yourself tend to excel." She nodded her head at him, as if to say "keep up the good work." She smiled once more, and then he was dismissed to lunch.

Walking into the Great Hall for lunch, Tom noticed that Blythe and Malfoy were having a heated argument. He approached them and took his seat, turning a questioning look to Dagon, but the boy merely shrugged his shoulders.

"…cannot believe you are so shallow!" Blythe was hissing at Malfoy.

"They've got dirty blood! We all know how horrible muggleborns turn out to be!" Malfoy hissed right back at her. Tom could see one of Blythe's fists curling around her wand.

"You didn't say anything to them about being muggleborn! It was just about the way they looked!" Their argument was starting to draw attention from the nearby Slytherins.

"Well you didn't have to go sit with her! I can't believe you'd show your face at this table after having done that! Being forced to in Herbology is one thing, but willingly sitting with her in Potions! I'm surprised Professor Tothurgal didn't humiliate you like she did Meg!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Before Tom could do anything to stop her, Blythe had whipped out her want and pointed it straight at his chest. "You're not the only one who knows hexes already, as you were so brazenly bragging about last night in the common room. I happen to come from a powerful family myself, and you'd be surprised what I know."

Malfoy blanched. "Traitor!" he sputtered.

"I'm no traitor. I just said you shouldn't be a shallow prat. You're worse than them, if anything, not even a true albino but a wanna-be, pale skin and platinum hair. Mad at them because they managed to become what you want?" She was glaring daggers at him, daring him to even respond to that. She noticed with a smirk that color had risen to his cheeks, just as it had in Potions while the professor read Meg's paper aloud.

"You don't even have the nerve to admit it, Malfoy. Face it: you're pathetic." With a final sneer she shoved her wand back into the pocket of her robe, snatching up her books and storming from the Great Hall. Tom looked to Malfoy in amusement.

"Shut up, Riddle," Malfoy spat at him. "Follow her. She's a powerful witch, I'll grant her that, though her views are a little skewed. Father would be displeased if I let her slip through my grasp."

Tom nodded. He grabbed a sandwich for himself and Blythe before exiting the Great Hall, searching the corridors for where she might have gone. He racked his brain in the meantime, wondering what he could say to her to get her to salvage the lost relationship with Malfoy. Tom wasn't an idiot. He knew that Vincent would make a great ally, just like he knew that Blythe would. He didn't want to have to choose sides his second day here.

He found her ten minutes later, sitting in one of the winged-back chairs in the Slytherin common room by the fire. By the way her jaw was working Tom could tell she was still fuming, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before approaching her. He held out the sandwich wordlessly, and she took it with a grateful nod. She didn't even look at him as she bit into it, staring into the flickering of the flames and obviously still deep in thought. Finally, she did glance up at him.

"You don't agree with Malfoy, do you? About muggleborns and all that, I mean."

Tom clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. There were a few ways he could answer that question, none of which he felt would be good at the time. After all, he hardly knew the girl, and she could just be goading him.

"Why, are you muggleborn?" He finally settled on countering with a question.

"Of course not! I meant what I said about my mum teaching me what I needed to know to defend myself. But Tocelas, that's the Ravenclaw girl, isn't so bad. She's rather cunning, really, and I figure if she wasn't muggleborn she'd probably have been placed in Slytherin along with her twin. She knows almost as many hexes as I do, truth be told." Blythe grinned at Tom, and the dark-haired wizard grinned right back at her.

"Still miffed at Malfoy?" he asked.

"I guess not, I can understand where he's coming from." She finished off the rest of her sandwich and glanced at her watch. "Oi! Time to go or we're going to be late!"

The two Slytherins snatched up their bags and left the common room at a run, bowling into a second year on their way out and knocking her over. Shouting apologies over their shoulder, they rounded the corner and took the stairs two at a time, knowing only that their Defense Against the Dark Arts room was somewhere on the fifth floor. As they started up another staircase it shifted beneath them, swiveling in a half-circle. The two clutched the banister for dear life, proceeding up the rest of the stairs only after they were sure it wouldn't move again.

"We're going to get detention for being late," Blythe groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was serve a detention her second day of classes.

"Where are you two headed?" Tom and Blythe spun at the voice, catching sight of a fifth-year walking their way. On his chest was pinned a silver prefects badge, which he seemed to thrust out before him in an important manner.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Tom said. "Do you know where it is?"

"Of course I do. Only been going here five years," the boy replied. "Follow me." He led the two down the hallway and around a corner, stopping before a classroom just as the bell rang. Opening the door, he poked his head inside. "Please pardon these two, Professor Vitale. The staircase switched around on them, that's why they're late."

"Thank you for leading them here, Mister Fudge. Ten points to Hufflepuff," the voice came from inside the classroom, and as a beaming Fudge departed down the hallway Tom and Blythe could see inside. Professor Vitale was young-looking, with a shaved head and somewhat pudgy body. He looked almost like a boxer gone soft, save for the fact that he probably hadn't had time in his life to be a boxer. The odd thing, Tom noticed, was that he wore those boots he'd seen muggles wearing in that one movie they'd watched in the orphanage, the one about cowboys over in Texas, America.

"Please take your seats, you two, so I may begin class," Professor Vitale said to Tom and Blythe. The two Slytherins hurried over to the empty desks in the second to last row, sitting in front of two Gryffindor boys. The boys leered at the two as they sat down, and as Professor Vitale began the introduction to DADA, the boys behind them started whispering to each other, purposely loud enough for both Tom and Blythe to hear.

"…probably snogging in an alcove," one said. The other snickered.

"Yeah, and paid off dear old Fudge to cover up for them," the other whispered back.

"Wouldn't mind getting her to myself…"

"Joshua! That's perfectly horrid!"

"Is not, Joseph. Only thing holding me back is the fact that she's a Slytherin," Joshua hissed at him. "Just take one look at her…"

Tom snuck a glance over to Blythe on his left, and noticed she was once more working her jaw as she stared straight ahead at the professor, trying to listen to him explain the differences between truly evil wizards and those that just use curses. He wasn't surprised to see that she'd snapped her quill in her shaking hands, and was too distracted to get another one from her bag. Tom didn't blame her. He turned slightly in his seat, still looking forward as he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"Shut up, you stupid Gryffindors. That's no way to be talking about anyone, especially if they can hear you." He obviously had interrupted their conversation, for he could see out of the corner of his eye they looked slightly taken-back.

"Ooo…Best listen to the scary Slytherin, Joey, don't want him to hex us," Joshua snorted.

"Yeah, Josh, wha'd'ya think he'll use first? The Cruciatus curse or will he go straight for the killing curse?" The boys snickered.

"That's it!" Blythe suddenly snapped, twisting in her seat to face the two boys. The boys smirked at her, and laughed as she pointed her wand at them. _"Silencio!"_ she hissed, their chuckles cut off abruptly. A smirk of her own and Blythe faced forward once more.

"Watch it!" Tom shouted. The two boys had lunged for the Slytherin girl, outraged that she'd hexed them into silence. She snapped back around to face them, dropping from her chair and to the ground to avoid the blows they'd sent her way. Rarely did one wizard get physical with another, but without the use of their voice there was little else they could do.

"_Locomotor mortis!"_ Malfoy shouted from the front of the room, and Joseph's legs locked together immediately. One of the other Gryffindors rounded on Malfoy. _"Tarantallegra!"_ The blonde Slytherin's legs started dancing out of his control, and that was all it took to get the rest of the Slytherins and Gryffindors in on the fight. Hexes were thrown every which way, with kids getting hit from both sides. Blythe took it upon herself to hex the two Gryffindors that had started the fight with everything she could think of, including a rather nice combination of boils and a jelly-legs jinx.

"_IMPEDIMENTA!"_ Professor Vitale bellowed, and all the students were frozen in their places. "What is the meaning of this!" He shouted at the class. "How dare you all let loose on one another? This is your second day at Hogwarts! I could have you all expelled for your actions!" He paced in an angry circle, and glared at the class. "I'm going to release you from the spell. I expect you to all take your seats and do not speak a word. If anyone so much as looks sideways at a member of the opposite house, you will find yourself in the Headmaster's office faster than you can say 'counter curse.' _Finite Incantatem!" _

As one, the students were released from the charm that froze them, and they scrambled to find their seats. The various hexes and jinxes that the students had been hit with disappeared as one, save for those that did lasting damage, like the boils dotting Joshua's face. Gryffindor and Slytherin alike hung their head, not daring to even glance at one another for fear of Professor Vitale being true to his word.

"Who started this?" he asked of the class. No one spoke. "I asked who started this, and I want an answer!"

Blythe raised her hand.

"Miss Ashcroft, what do you have to say?"

"Sir, the two Gryffindors that were sitting behind Tom and I started making rude comments about the two of us, and when they couldn't get a rise out of us they lunged. I don't think –"

"That's not true, sir!" Joseph cut her off. "She was the one who –"

"SILENCE!" Professor Vitale roared. "You will speak only if I ask you a direct question, is that understood Mister Asotin?"

"Yes, sir," Joseph muttered.

"As I was saying, sir," Blythe continued, "I don't think the two of them know any spells to scrape together, or else they'd have used those instead of swinging fists." The dark-haired Slytherin just couldn't resist the chance of making a dig at their magical prowess.

"I see, Miss Ashcroft. And were you the one to hit them with the jelly-legs jinx combined with the boils?"

"Yes, sir, but I was only trying to protect myself." Tom might have imagined it, but he thought he saw the young professor's lip twitch in an almost-smile.

"Those of you that were hit with lasting damage may go down to the hospital wing. The rest of you are excused while I sort out this mess. We will pick up this lesson on Friday. Go!" He barked at them.

The students scattered.


	5. Chapter Five

Riddle Me This: Chapter Five

Tom headed to the library as soon as he was dismissed from class, unscathed by the stray hexes that had hit many of his fellow Slytherins. He and Blythe seemed to be the only ones unmarred by any lasting damage from their house, and one of the Gryffindor boys had managed to avoid most of the hexes thrown his way as well. Blythe had excused herself from his presence to accompany Vincent to the hospital wing, presumably to thank him for having gotten the one Gryffindor out of her way before he could hit her.

Staring blankly at the shelf of books in front of him, Tom couldn't help but wonder if Katrina had made up the book to keep him busy from interrupting her. He'd been looking for over a quarter of an hour, and had yet to find a single book on the founders of Hogwarts. With a sigh he left the aisle he was in, approaching the librarian at her desk.

"Madam Thao, may I trouble you for a moment?" Tom asked politely, offering the stern-looking librarian a smile.

"Yes, what is it?" She glanced up from the list of books she'd been cataloging.

"I was wondering if you could help me find a book on the founders of Hogwarts. Particularly one about their family trees. I'd heard that there was a book that magically added their kins' names each time another one was born, and I have yet to find it amongst your shelves."

"Of course I can help you find it. Right this way." Madam Thao eased her willowy frame from behind her desk, leading the Slytherin boy over to one of the aisles he hadn't gotten to. She searched the shelves for a moment, finally pulling a thin, dusty tome from the top shelf and handing it to him.

"Thank you very much, ma'am. I'll be sure to replace it when I'm done with it." He walked off with the book under his arm, finding an empty study carol and pulling out a sheaf of parchment and quill to write his findings. Another quarter of an hour later and he was done, stuffing the parchment into the pocket of his robe and placing the book back on its proper shelf.

"Thanks again, Madam Thao," Tom said as he left the library. Once in the corridor he broke into a trot, sliding down the wooden banister in his haste to get back to Katrina. Turning down the hallway she was hanging on, he started shouting.

"I got it, I got it!" He skidded to a halt in front of her frame, waving his findings in front of her excitedly. "I am his heir! See!" He pointed to the paper that held his name beneath his mother's, which even included a current-day photo of him. The boy was ecstatic. The photo of him was even _moving_.

"And you're up there, at the top next to Salazar," he continued, pointing it out to Katrina. Her picture, or what he assumed to be her, had been included as well, though she looked a lot younger than she did in the portrait he was speaking with. "You look pretty," he mentioned casually. Upon seeing the look on her face he quickly rectified himself. "I mean, you still do look pretty! In fact, you look even better now." He was digging a deeper hole for himself, and he tried once more to salvage the situation. "I mean…"

He was cut off by a deep, throaty chuckle from the portrait of the man hanging next to her. This man had dark, bushy brows and a smirk that reminded Tom of his own. His hair was as dark as his brows, falling just short of his shoulders, though it was tied back into a ponytail of sorts. In his portrait he was seated in a high, winged-back chair, a rather large snake curling around its legs.

Tom hadn't even noticed this portrait before, and gazed at him with wide eyes as he spoke.

"She's used to it, boy, don't bother trying to say anything about it. We all know, she most of all, that she became a sore sight after hitting fifty," the portrait of the man chuckled once more, before turning his sharp gaze to Tom. "So, you're my heir, eh? I figured you'd be a bit bigger. Kind of scrawny…" He trailed off, looking down at the awe-struck boy standing in front of his portrait. "Close your mouth, boy; I won't have any heir of mine walking around the school with an open trap!"

Tom's jaw started working again, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line. He held his tongue, not wanting to insult not only the founder of this school but also his own bloodline. The portrait seemed to smirk at him.

"So…so you're Salazar," Tom clarified. The portrait nodded. "Why have I never seen you around here before? I mean, why not speak up earlier?"

To his right, Katrina chuckled. And then something happened that he would never imagine, not even in his wildest dreams. She stepped from her portrait to Salazar's, moving the snake out of the way and settling on his lap with the same familiarity that Tom had once used when he'd go crying to Mr. Cowin back when he was very young.

"He's only here for a little while longer. You see, Tom, Salazar's portrait is not allowed to remain in one spot for more than a few hours. Godric, he founded Gryffindor, had a spell placed on this portrait after it was commissioned. He thought that if any of the students found out who he was, terrible things would result," Katrina sneered at Salazar, though it was not meant for him to take offense. She was just stating a fact, and as with the nature of almost all Slytherins, it came with a complimentary sneer.

"So where do you go after this?" Tom asked.

"Couldn't tell you," Salazar said. "My appearances are random, and seldom do I stay long enough for Katrina to get to me. This is about the fifth time I've seen her in all these years." He placed a hand on her waist affectionately, and in turn she placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

Tom cleared his throat. "This isn't going to turn into a snogging session, is it?" His nose wrinkled, though he was really only kidding with his long-dead kin.

"It just might." Katrina winked at him, turning back to her lover and whispering something that caused him to blush a deep crimson. He then looked to Tom, and cleared his throat much the same way the boy had done just moments before. Before he could even open his mouth, the portrait started to emit a faint sheen of light, and the background shook around the two in the portrait. Katrina's clutch on Salazar tightened, unaware of what exactly was happening. Salazar, on the other hand, was completely calm, though he did start speaking rapidly to Tom.

"You are my heir, Tom, and there are things that you must be aware of. There is a legend, or so they believe, that is fact. Inside this school there is a chamber –" He didn't get a chance to get the rest of it out. The portrait disappeared with a loud CRACK! and the hall was empty. Not even Katrina was in her portrait, though Tom did wait for a few minutes. Admitting finally that she wasn't going to turn up any time soon, the Slytherin headed off to dinner.

Friday afternoon found the Slytherin and Gryffindor first years once more together in DADA. The Slytherin boys, with Blythe, had arrived first to find all of the desks pushed to one side, the center of the floor left clear of any objects that might get in ones way. Tom had shot a questioning glance towards Professor Vitale, but he merely smiled and waited for the rest of the class to trickle in.

"Because of Tuesday's catastrophe," Professor Vitale began, "I have decided that this particular class of mine needs some practical lessons. So I will be holding what you may consider a year-long contest. This contest will be every man for himself, with benefits going to the winner's house.

"The way this will work is simple: every class you will come in here and pair up with one of your classmates. You may keep the same partner or switch around, I do not care. During class you will be researching and practicing the spells you think you will use in the contest. You will have homework during this time, make no mistake. It will be written on the board and you are to hand it in the next class period. Is this understood?"

The class murmured their assent.

"Good. Today we are going to have a bit of a practice round. When I call your name you are to step forward and face your opponent. I will count to three, and then you will begin. Up first are…Ashcroft and Will."

Blythe stepped forward and into the center of the cleared-out classroom, wand held loosely in her right hand. From the group of Gryffindors came Joshua, the boy that'd started making comments during the first DADA class. He smirked at Blythe as he stepped towards her, and she sneered right back at him. The two took up positions opposite each other, wands extended in the customary dueling stance, looking to Professor Vitale for instruction.

"On three, ready?"

They nodded.

"One."

Blythe and Josh locked gazes.

"Two."

They raised their wands slightly, taking aim.

"Three!"

"_Rictusempra!"_ Josh shouted. A flash of blue sparks shot from the end of his wand towards Blythe.

"_Protego!"_ The air in front of Blythe seemed to become solid with her spell, and the sparks rebounded upon Josh. He clutched his stomach as he fell to the ground, rolling around in laughter. He sputtered, but could not talk around it.

"_Engorgio!"_ Blythe cried, wand pointed at her opponent's face. His nose started to swell, laughter becoming more nasal-like as he clutched at his sides. His eyes widened as his vision became half-blocked by his huge nose, weighing his head down.

He tried to shoot a hex at her despite the swollen nose and unstoppable laughter, but only managed to produce a flow of bubbles from the tip of his wand. Blythe smirked down at him as the rest of the Slytherins hooted in mirth, and even a few of the Gryffindors were hard-pressed to conceal their sniggering. She caught sight of Professor Vitale hiding a smile, and decided to end it.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ Josh was knocked a few feet backwards by her spell, and his wand shot through the air. Blythe jumped up to catch it, spinning it through her fingers as her housemates cheered.

"I declare Miss Ashcroft the winner! Ten points to Slytherin!" Professor Vitale called over the din. Housemates swarming her and patting her on the back, Blythe had to literally shove them to the side to get through to Josh. He'd stopped laughing – Professor Vitale had probably ended the spell – and was climbing shakily to his feet as the Slytherin approached him, hand extended. He stared at her, hardly managing to hide his contempt as he fought to hold his head up, still weighed down by the giant nose.

"Good practice round," Blythe said, dropping her hand back to her side when he made his feelings on the matter known. "Here's your wand," she offered after a moment of silence, and the Gryffindor snatched it from her. With a glare around his huge honker he rejoined his fellow housemates standing near the door.

"Hey, Will!" she called after him. He turned to face her. She lifted her wand once more, and he flinched back. _"Reducio." _His nose returned to its normal size, but he didn't even thank her as he slunk behind Joseph and his other friend.

"You've got it coming, Ashcroft," she heard him mutter. The Slytherin rolled her eyes as she returned to her snickering housemates.

All in all, the Slytherins did much better than the Gryffindors during the duels. Tom was faced up against the Joseph Asotin kid, and managed to snag a narrow victory by using a full body bind on him. The rest of the girls from Slytherin and Gryffindor were up after Tom and Joseph, but that wasn't as interesting to watch. Unlike Blythe, they lacked the proper skills of a duelist. Dagon and his opponent had the class rolling in laughter as they summoned different objects from around the room to hit each other with. It finally ended after five straight minutes of the two sword fighting with desk legs (neither had managed to summon the entire desk) when Dagon knocked his opponent out cold. He bowed and blew kisses to the class, wrapping an arm around Blythe's waist once he'd returned to the Slytherin side of the room. They burst into a fresh round of giggles at her utterance of the word "knickers." Following the Weasley twins dueling each other was Vincent Malfoy and the boy who'd hexed him that first day, one of Asotin's buddies, Marcus Grinberg.

The girls in class seemed to draw their breath as one, almost swooning as they caught sight of him. They turned to each other and whispered behind their hands, giggling if he looked their way. Tom even caught sight of Blythe giving him the once-over, though she didn't swoon or giggle as the others did. She merely hid a smile with the ducking of her head, and turned to face Dagon.

Marcus and Vincent, standing next to each other, seemed to be almost opposites in their appearances. The Gryffindor had darkly tanned skin where Malfoy was pale, and his shortly cropped hair was dark brown in colour while Malfoy's blonde locks fell half way down his back. Even his eyes were darker than the Slytherin's, a very deep brown that resembled Tom's own almost-charcoal eyes. They were both well built for eleven-year-olds, though Marcus was an inch or two taller than his opponent.

The two shook hands and took a few steps back from each other, waiting for the count off from Professor Vitale. He reached three, and the boys jumped into action.

"_Tarantallegra!"_ Marcus cried, while Vincent fired off a jelly-legs jinx. They were both hit, legs moving out of their control as the class cheered for their housemate. (Except for three out of the four Slytherin girls – they were cheering for Marcus. Very quietly.)

"_Incarcerous!"_ Vincent shouted, and the ropes sprang from the tip of his wand to wrap around Marcus. But the Gryffindor wasn't giving up that easily.

"_Diffindo!"_ The ropes around him were cut instantly, and he jumped to his feet, throwing off the jelly-legs jinx. _"Incendio!"_

Vincent's robes caught on fire, and he screamed. He ran around in a panic, dropping his wand in his confusion and looking for water.

"_Accio wand!"_ Marcus caught Vincent's wand as it flew towards him, holding it in the air for Professor Vitale to see. The professor nodded his acknowledgement of the Gryffindor's victory, and Blythe stepped forward. She shot a jet of water from her wand to put out the fire on her friend's robes, and turned to Marcus with her hand extended, palm up. Vincent's wand was placed in her hand by the grinning Gryffindor, and with a curt nod she returned to her group of Slytherins, handing the wand back to its owner as her room mates rushed past her to swarm around the Gryffindor victor.

"It's okay, Vince," Dagon was saying as Blythe joined them. "You'll get him next time."

"Yeah," Tom agreed.

"Unless he gets you first," one of the Weasleys chimed in. The brothers snickered, but no one stood up for Vincent. The bell rang a moment later, and the class filed out, heading down to dinner.

Blythe lagged behind her fellow Slytherins, lost in thought, and they had rounded the corner by the time she was hit with a trip jinx from behind. She growled at the offender as he passed her, Joshua sticking his tongue out at her and blowing a raspberry.

"Immature prat," Blythe muttered as she scrambled to her feet, no real damage done to her person. She sighed as she saw her broken ink bottle, sheaves of parchment soaked in the black liquid. Even the front of her robes had been drenched. She'd been about to fix the mess when a voice behind her spoke.

"_Reparo."_ The bottle was instantly whole again, filled with the ink that hadn't managed to soak her papers. _"Scourgify." _The rest of the spilt ink was wiped clean from Blythe's things, and even the Slytherin crest on her robe was sparkling. She turned to see Marcus behind her, sliding his wand back into his pocket.

"Where'd your fan club go?" Blythe asked with a smirk.

"I sent them off to get me a Dragon Egg Shake," he responded without a beat of hesitation. A Dragon Egg Shake was one of the drinks that the older, richer wizarding families had when they went out, just to show off their wealth. It wasn't actually made with dragons' eggs, rather dragon milk, but the first time it was made someone had dropped in a large piece of shell, and the name had stuck.

Blythe was surprised by his attempt at humor, and chuckled softly.

"I'm sure they'd go to the far corners of the Earth to get it for you," she retorted as they started walking down the hall.

"Are you making fun?" Marcus asked in mock outrage. "Well! I never!" They broke into a fit of laughter.

"I just wanted to say you did a great job today during the practice rounds," Marcus said as they reached the stairway.

"For a girl?" Blythe asked skeptically.

"No, for anyone. That was a really impressive shield charm you used against Joshua. I didn't know anyone in our year could do that, let alone make it powerful enough to keep from shattering."

"Oh. Thanks. You did great against Vincent, too," Blythe said after a moment.

"Thanks, Blythe." Marcus grinned again, and Blythe got the impression it was something he was always doing. "I get the feeling that you and I will be the last two standing if Professor Vitale arranges this in the elimination method like I assume he's going to. So…I was thinking…" he paused.

"Yes?" Blythe prompted.

"Well, since there are nine Slytherins and seven Gryffindors, one of each is obviously going to have to pair up together. Do you want to spare our housemates that horrible fate and work together?" he asked it so nonchalantly, and with that perfect combination of light teasing, that Blythe was stunned for a moment. She'd naturally assumed she'd be working with Tom or Dagon, but now that he mentioned it she wasn't too sure. His logic made sense anyway, and if she decided she didn't like him she could always find a new partner. It wasn't like partners for DADA was life or death.

"Sure," she agreed.

"Great!" Marcus enthused. They'd reached the last flight of stairs going down to the Great Hall, and he grabbed the sleeve of her robe to stop her.

"Watch this." Hopping onto the marble banister, he pushed himself off with one hand and slid all the way down, landing on his feet and looking back to Blythe.

"You try!" he called up to her.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea…" she began. "What if I fall?"

"I won't let you. Oh, c'mon, live a little," he cajoled. She gave in.

"If I split my skull open you're going to be in big trouble," she mock threatened, clambering onto the hand rail as he'd done. She pushed herself off, eyes squeezing shut as she slid down the rail, hardly containing the urge to squeal in delight. The wind she created whipped her dark locks from her face, and she peeled her eyes open to watch the ground loom every closer. It came towards her faster and faster, and finally…

A pair of arms wrapped around her small frame before she hit the ground, spinning her around once or twice before she was set on her feet. She tilted her head back to look at the taller Gryffindor, and they smiled at each other, heading for the Great Hall.

"That was amazing!" Blythe exclaimed as he pushed the doors open. "Thanks, Marcus."

"Oh, please, call me Mark," he corrected.

"Mark, then. See you in DADA."

One last grin, and the two went their separate ways.


	6. Chapter Six

Riddle Me This: Chapter Six

"Can you believe that guy?" Vincent growled, watching as Marcus and Blythe stepped into the Great Hall. "He has the nerve to beat me – a Malfoy! – in class, and then! And then! He steals the attention of all the first year girls!"

"Aw, c'mon, Vince, that's not true; he's got the attention of a few of the second and third year girls, too," Dagon said laughingly. But Vincent wasn't going to be deterred.

"Including you," he said coldly as Blythe took her seat between Tom and Dagon, across from Vincent.

"Including me what?" she asked.

She didn't even glance up from filling her plate with pork chops and potatoes.

"You were hanging all over that Grinberg kid!" Vincent spat at her. She did look up then, with narrowed eyes and lips set in a thin line.

"For your information, Malfoy, I wasn't hanging all over him like your little tramps were. Asotin's friend hit me with a trip jinx and Grinberg stopped to help me up. If the rest of you Slytherins had stuck around, the whole thing could have been avoided." Her voice was cold.

"Then why were you and he walking together in here, hmm? You were smiling, so it must not have been too horrible."

"What is it with you, Malfoy! Why do you care so much about who I associate with!" Her voice grew louder, and a few of the nearby students started to glance over at them. Lowering her voice to a hiss, she resumed her rant. "Are you jealous because he's better looking than you? If so, you're being no better now than you were about the albino twin thing! Sod off, Malfoy; mind your own bloody business."

She angrily shoveled her food into her mouth, ignoring Vincent and his gaping, awe-struck that someone would dare stand up to him. She couldn't believe him! Jealous because she'd spoken to the guy that had beaten him in class. Like anyone would care come tomorrow.

"She's right, you know," Tom put in between bites of his lamb.

"Just show him up next opportunity you get," Dagon said around a mouthful of potatoes. "What are you guys doing this weekend anyway? As far as I recall, we've only got the one assignment for Astronomy, and that'll be easy enough come Sunday. Or if we really want to put it off, we can do it Wednesday afternoon during our free period before class…"

"I've got some research to do," Tom said after a moment. The other boys looked to him.

"On what?" Vincent asked.

"A chamber," Tom said in a hushed voice, the other boys drawing near in order to hear him. "Salazar Slytherin was rumored to have built it."

"You mean the Chamber of Secrets?" Blythe asked, looking up from the Transfiguration book she'd been leafing through.

Tom nodded, and they all looked to Blythe as she continued speaking.

"They say it's just a legend, that it really doesn't exist. But this school was built so long ago that no one can really be sure. It was rumored that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor got into a huge fight about the allowance of muggleborns into the school. Salazar ended up leaving, but not before building the chamber, with a monster inside that would eventually come out to rid the school of those with dirty blood. His lover was the only one who knew about it, and they'd spent countless nights down there enjoying each other's company under the watchful eye of the monster. Legend says that only his true heir can open the chamber and control the monster within."

A hush had fallen over the boys as they listened to her tale, enraptured by the thought of a secret chamber with a muggleborn killer lurking inside. Then Dagon voiced the question they'd all been asking themselves.

"What kind of monster do you think is inside?" They all looked to him, silence resettling in on them as they thought about it.

"Maybe it's a crup," one of the Weasleys ventured after a moment.

"No, I don't think it would be a crup." Blythe shook her head. "They're awfully loyal to wizards, and not even all that dangerous."

"Yeah," the other Weasley twin said, "But they don't like muggles at all, so maybe it is a crup."

"No, it can't be," Blythe said again. "Muggleborns are still wizards, regardless of their parentage."

"Besides," piped up Dagon, "What'll it do? Lick them to death?" He got a chuckle from the group, and they went back to their pondering.

"Do you think it's a dragon?" That came from the same Weasley twin.

"Oh, sure," Vincent drawled, "like Salazar really has a dragon cooped up inside the castle. Don't you think someone would have noticed by now?" He hit the kid in the back of the head lightly.

"What if it's a banshee?" Dagon asked.

"No good, Dagon," Blythe said, "How would only the heir of Slytherin be able to control it? We're looking too broad. We need to find out what thing only a group of people can control. Any ideas?"

"What about an army of flobberworms?" Vincent sniggered. "Attack of the flobberworm army! Ahhhh! Head for the hills!"

Dagon snorted around his swallow of pumpkin juice, managing to not spray anyone this time as he laughed at Vincent's impression.

"Run for your life! It's the flobberworms!" he sputtered. The rest of them were howling in laughter, banging their fists on the table as they took turns adding comments to the flobberworm joke. Even students from other tables were shooting them weird looks, but they carried on as if they were the only ones in the Great Hall.

One of them snorted as he laughed, and that got the rest of them going even more. It took a while for them to calm down, and even then one of them would start sniggering uncontrollably, and it would start up again. Finally, just as the crowd in the Great Hall was starting to thin, they composed themselves and started guessing again.

"It could be a really vicious giant," Tom put in. He'd read about them in one of the books he'd checked out from the library.

"It could," Blythe agreed, "but they generally hate wizards more than muggles, because we use magic against them and everything. Besides, that still brings up how it would know a pureblood from a muggleborn, and how to control it."

"So it needs to be able to smell the difference between those with clean blood and those with dirty blood? I mean, that is basically what it has to do," Tom stated logically. It took a moment for the others to nod, thinking about it.

"Yeah, I guess so," Blythe clarified. "So we need to find out what has a really good sense of smell."

The group of six became silent once more, mulling it over as they finished off their dinner. Finally, the Weasley twin that had been mostly quiet spoke up.

"What about snakes?"

The others looked to him, but Blythe finally shook her head.

"No, I don't think so. I mean, they do have a great sense of smell and are poisonous and all, but I can't think of any snake monstrous enough to be able to kill off all the kids with dirty blood in the school," she said.

"Mudbloods," Tom muttered. It was his turn to be stared at. "Dirty blood," he rationalized. "Muggleborns have dirty blood, don't they? Well, that means they're mudbloods."

Vincent grinned and clapped Tom on the back.

"Well now! Excellent! That'll be a great name to throw in their faces every time they step out of line. Mind you, they might not all be smart enough to get it straight off, but I reckon they'll get it eventually."

Blythe shook her head once more, dark tendrils flying every which way. With a roll of her eyes she stood, gathering her books and turning towards Tom.

"Good luck with your research; let me know if you find anything. I'm going to head back to the common room and see if I can finish my Astronomy homework tonight." She smiled before turning once more, walking down the length of the Slytherin table and out of the Great Hall.

The boys returned to their discussion, debating about what sort of monster could be inside, and what they could do to control each one. Half an hour later they all stood, gathering their own books and heading back to the common room. Vincent, leading the way, stopped suddenly when he saw Grinberg speaking with a first-year Hufflepuff, one of the girls that had been trying to catch his eye since the beginning of the year.

Grinberg, catching the movement from the corner of his eye, moved himself and the girl slightly, putting her back to them so she couldn't see anything. Locking eyes with Vincent, the Gryffindor very deliberately closed the distance between himself and the girl, placing a chaste kiss against her lips. He never once blinked as he did this, and the Slytherins all knew immediately it was for show.

As the "couple" joined hands and turned to walk away, Grinberg glanced over his shoulder at Vincent and mouthed the words "Your move." He smirked, and they disappeared up the stairs.

"Argh!" Vincent growled, slamming his fist into the open palm of his other hand. "That, my Slytherin friends, is an open challenge. I believe I'll have to find out just what the stakes are next time I see him…You, there!" He gestured to the other giggling Hufflepuff girl, the one that Grinberg hadn't just headed upstairs with.

"Y-yes, Vincent?" She blushed as he drew near.

"What's your name?" Vincent asked. Tom had to groan and roll his eyes at the blonde's utter lack of finesse.

"Adria O'Meara," she simpered, reminding Tom of their Herbology teacher with her falsely-sweet voice and annoying way of fluttering her hands as she spoke. He ground his teeth together in annoyance.

"Right, Adria. And you obviously know who I am," Vincent continued on. "Anyway, I was wondering if you would be interested in being my girlfriend." He spoke with such arrogance that Tom was hard-pressed not to gag.

O'Meara looked over Vincent's shoulder and to the group of Slytherins behind him. Her eyes widened in fright, and she quickly returned her gaze to Vincent. Noticing her hesitation, the blonde excused himself for a moment and turned towards his housemates.

"Beat it!" he hissed. Almost as one they smirked at him, continuing their trek back to the common room.

"I can't believe him," Dagon muttered as they entered the dungeons. "As if being beaten in DADA isn't bad enough, he has to go and make a fool in front of himself with the ladies, as well. Because we're his friends we're going to be out of luck all over the place," he whined.

"Stop being so dramatic," Tom snapped. "We're not lucking out anywhere just because Vince wants to lose another battle to Grinberg. Though I do think that it is our duty as fellow Slytherins to help him out by showing up the Gryffindors." He smirked, and the other boys quickly caught on.

"What are you planning?" Stephen asked with a grin.

"Just that we should take it upon ourselves to embarrass that Gryffindor Threesome, including Grinberg, Asotin, and Will. I don't have anything specific planned yet, but I'm thinking breakfast tomorrow…" He trailed off as they reached the common room, the troop claiming seats near the fireplace. There was hardly anyone there, and that was no surprise. They were all probably taking advantage of the good weather before winter set in and kept them all indoors.

"We could hex boils all over their face," Dagon offered after a moment. But Tom shook his head.

"No, no; it needs to be more creative than that. What if we…" He launched into a lengthy explanation of a series of pranks they could pull on the boys, his housemates nodding in agreement and occasionally adding their own comments. They went to bed that night with a fully outlined plan of what they were going to do, and how they were going to do it.

The next morning the boys, with the exception of Stephen, all trooped down to the Great Hall at the usual time, surveying their handiwork. There wasn't much to see to the untrained eye, and someone who wasn't actively looking for a trap wouldn't know it was there. Most of the school had arrived for breakfast by the time Stephen showed up, rushing to his seat.

"They're on their way. Did I stall them long enough?" he panted. It had been his job to make sure that the three boys were kept out of the Great Hall, at least long enough for a good crowd to be there when the prank was pulled.

"Yeah, good job," Tom said.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later the three Gryffindors entered the Great Hall, and right behind them was…Blythe. Tom swore under his breath. He shot a glare a Stephen.

"You were supposed to make sure no one else was in the way," he hissed.

Stephen smiled and shook his head.

"I met her in the hall and she got in on it to make sure it didn't look too suspicious. Most of it will avoid her anyway. Now hurry up before you miss your chance!"

Tom whipped back around to face the doors, pleased to see Blythe had stalled the group to give him time. Pointing his wand at the area above their head, he whispered the incantation to set his plans into action and sat back to watch his handiwork.

Last night, the boys had placed a bucket above the door, spelling it to stay invisible (which had taken quite some magic to do) and stringing a clear wire from that bucket to another one. With the word from Tom the bucket became visible and tipped over, splashing its contents across all three boys and Blythe's black shoes. The mixture wasn't exactly horrid, just a few bottle of black ink and lake water, but its odor was nothing but putrid. It soaked into their clothing before they could move, hair sopping and matting against their cheeks. Thinking it would be over after that, they stumbled forward, one of them tripping over the fallen bucket and sending the next one into motion. The second held syrup, thick and sticky and just setting them up for the next trap. This one Tom had to activate again as the boys paused, wondering if it was safe to continue. A mixture of flour and feathers fell onto them from the last bucket, the flour coating them white as a ghost while the feathers just stuck out at odd angles. As if that wasn't bad enough, Dagon and Scott pointed their wands at the same time, one causing their bodies to bloat and pants drop around their ankles while the other transfigured their hair into a lion's mane the color of a tiger's pelt.

Tom glanced at Scott, the one who'd been supposed to turn their hair green, with raised brows, but the boy merely shrugged in confusion. Looking back towards the three Gryffindors, he smirked as they slipped in the mess as they waddled to the door, Asotin finally falling and having to be rolled along by the other two.

The Great Hall was completely silent for a moment. And then as one every single student erupted into laughter, even those over at the Gryffindor table. Fists were banged against tables and knees, and Tom caught sight of even the professors hiding smiles behind their goblet or hands. Blythe rejoined the Slytherin in her usual seat, fumbling with her robes for a moment before she sat between Tom and Dagon.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "That was brilliant! Will was near tears as they left the hall, trying to yank up his trousers and kick Asotin along all the while. It will take forever to get that gunk out of their hair, provided they can even transfigure it back!" She grinned broadly, spooning eggs and sausage onto her plate.

"Yeah," Vince put in, "You guys are good!"

The four boys responsible for the mess grinned and thanked them, explaining how they'd planned it all out the night before, down to the very last instant when the students started laughing. They finished just as Blythe and Vince ate the last of their breakfast, and after another round of congratulations they moved onto another subject.

"You guys have anything planned for this weekend yet?" Dagon asked once more.

Blythe, Tom, Stephen and Scott all responded with a "no." Vincent mumbled something about his girlfriend, and Blythe shot him a look.

"What girlfriend, Vince? You've only been here a week!" she exclaimed.

"Vince here is having a little competition with Grinberg," Tom explained. "He saw him kissing one of the Hufflepuff girls and decided to get in on the action." They boys sniggered as Vincent blushed.

"He needs to learn who's running this place!" he fumed, which only made Dagon and the twins guffaw loudly.

"Until you're head boy, Vince, or at least in seventh year, you're nowhere near running this place," Stephen informed him.

"Anyway," Dagon went on, "what do you say we get some exploring done?"

"In here or outside?" Blythe asked.

"Both."

The others readily agreed, and they walked off to do some 'sploring.


	7. Chapter Seven

Riddle Me This: Chapter Seven

The first Monday in October found the first year Slytherins crowding around a notice board in the common room, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Tom had been standing near the back of the small crowd, having woken up late with no longer a reason not to do so with Katrina gone, and was unable to see over most of their heads. He only found out what was going on when Blythe elbowed her way through the students, Dagon trailing at her heels. They both wore broad grins, not put out in the least when Tom didn't share their enthusiasm immediately.

"Flying lessons!" Blythe informed him. "We've got them today, just after dinner."

Tom gaped for a minute, trying to get his brain to process the information. Flying? But how? People couldn't fly. He furrowed his brow in concentration. And then it hit him.

"On brooms?" he asked, incredulously.

"No, dummy, on threstrals. Of course on brooms!" Blythe rolled her eyes.

_So that's what those brooms were for in Diagon Alley_, Tom thought. Flying. Wow. That would be an experience.

Tom's classes that day could not have been less interesting. Even Asotin failed to get a rise out of him when he started throwing spitballs during Binns' class, something which would usually irritate him beyond reason. The sandy-haired Gryffindor soon gave up on Tom, instead nailing Blythe with a large glob of the sticky mess. She needed only to turn around and wave her wand threateningly to make him stop altogether.

Besides, Tom knew he was just jealous anyway, because he was passing all his classes with flying colors and had beaten him in DADA. Really, the boy was a total flop with hexes and spells, surprising since he'd grown up around magic, being a pureblood and all. It was a wonder he'd gotten into the school at all, with all the magical prowess he showed.

It was like that at the orphanage, too, Tom realized with a start. The other kids were all jealous because he was smarter, nicer, better friends with the headmaster. Instead of trying to beat him academically, they beat him physically. With their fists.

Tom winced at the memories of the beatings he'd been unable to evade and went back to taking notes.

Following dinner, the Slytherin Six Pack (the boys and Blythe) headed down to the quidditch pitch, the sight of their flying lessons. All of the first years were to take them together to save time for their instructor, Madam Thao, who was also the librarian. It was rumored that she'd once played professional quidditch, but Tom had never gotten a chance to ask her if this was true or not.

A row of brooms was laid out on the ground in the center of the pitch, halfway between the three large hoops on either end. The students clustered around them as they waited for Madam Thao to arrive, those that grew up around brooms and flying muttering about the horrible quality of the brooms they were to use.

"I can't believe they're making us fly on Silver Comets!" Vince whined to his friends.

"That model is so old it's unbelievable," someone said from behind them. They turned to see Asotin, Will, and Grinberg, the latter of the three the one who'd spoken. He smiled at Blythe and got one in return, then returned his gaze to Vincent.

"What model are you used to, Malfoy?" he asked. To the casual observer, it would look like he was just trying to make small talk. But his housemates, and Vince's, knew he was trying to goad the blonde Slytherin once more.

"A Cleansweep Three," Vince responded without hesitation. "It's the newest and most expensive model going, and _Quidditch Weekly_ claims that it is twice as fast as any other broom out there. Of course, as soon as the next one comes out I'll have that one, too." He smirked as if this proved he was better than the Gryffindor.

"What are you flying on, Mark?" Blythe asked. She and her DADA partner had decided to skip the whole surname thing, becoming fast friends in their studies of different hexes and curses during class.

"A Corona 1000," he said casually, watching Vince's face for his reaction. And he wasn't disappointed.

"How do you have the new Corona already?" Vince sputtered. "That's not supposed to come out until next year!"

"Yeah, well, my father called in a favor and got it for me for my birthday. It's supposed to be ten times better than the Cleansweep Three, hands down. It's more touch sensitive and can go from zero to full speed in under ten seconds. Not to mention that it's more aerodynamic and goes faster, but I won't go into details…" He trailed off, knowing he'd beaten the Slytherin once more. Acting as if this wasn't his intention all along, he turned towards Blythe.

"Anyway, Blythe, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a broom next to each other so we can discuss some of those new spells we learned for Vitale's class. What do you say?"

"What about your girlfriend?" Blythe asked, spotting the Hufflepuff behind Grinberg and hanging onto his every word. She shot a glare at the Slytherin and snaked her arms around her boyfriend's waist, hugging him from behind.

"Come on, Marcus," she simpered, "Madam Thao is ready to begin the lesson."

"Shauna," Grinberg said patiently, "I need to discuss some academics with Blythe, here. Why don't I catch up with you after this and we can find something to do?" He winked knowingly at her, and she backed off, blushing profusely. Rising to her toes, she kissed his cheek before scurrying off to find Adria. Grinberg watched her go, turning to face Blythe only after she'd disappeared behind a clump of Ravenclaws. He raised a brow, waiting for her decision.

Blythe shrugged. "Yeah, sure, I don't see why not. Come on, Tom, you can join us."

Grabbing Tom's hand, she followed Grinberg to a line of three brooms that had yet to be claimed, pleased to see that the Gryffindor was slightly annoyed by her choice of bringing her friend along. Her thoughts were cut off as Madam Thao blew a whistle, demanding the attention of the students. Everyone ceased talking immediately, looking to the witch as she paced in front of them.

"All of you please step up to a broom if you have not done so already, and hold your right hand over it." She paused, waiting for the students to follow directions. "Very good. Now, when I tell you to, I want you to say 'up,' and your broom should jump right up to your hand. Ready? Go."

"Up!" Tom commanded. His broom flipped over, but didn't rise to his hand. He said it again, and again, and slowly the broom started to float up to his hand, until he finally wrapped his fingers around it and turned his head to look at Blythe. She and Grinberg had both gotten their brooms on the first try, and so had Vincent, but many of the other students were still having problems.

Asotin and Dagon's brooms were just rolling on the ground with each command, and the Weasleys' and Will's only got the front half up. The albino twins weren't having as much trouble, and as Tom watched they got their twins in the air with satisfied smiles. Vince's girlfriend, Adria, and her friend had given up trying, and were gossiping about the latest rumor flowing around the school, occasionally shooting glares at Blythe for having dared steal Grinberg for an instant.

Madam Thao blew her whistle after the majority of the students got their brooms in the air, and they turned to look at her once more.

"Those of you that actually got your brooms into the air may now mount. Hold the handle firmly between your hands and on my whistle kick off from the ground. You are to rise only a few feet and hover for a moment, then come back down by angling the front of your broom towards the ground. Ready? One, two, three." She blew her whistle, and the students kicked off as one. Like before, a few of them had problems getting into the air, though not as many.

Tom felt his feet leave the ground after he kicked off, and looked down to see it falling away beneath him. He rose about ten feet into the air, glancing over at Blythe and grinning at her as she reached the same height. He felt like his stomach had bottomed-out, feet singing freely beneath him. Angling the front of his broom towards the ground after a moment or two, he descended slowly, staying mounted on his broom as he looked to Madam Thao for further instruction.

"Very good, all of you," she said. "This is probably a first that nothing catastrophic has happened in ten years. I'll leave it at this tonight, and anyone interested in more flying lessons is to report back here same time next Monday. Place your brooms back on the ground and you are dismissed."

Tom and Blythe shared a glance as they dismounted, nodding in unison. They both knew they'd be back next week.

The following Monday the Six Pack trooped back down to the pitch, not surprised to see that many students had not returned. They were the only students from Slytherin, Asotin and his buddies came from Gryffindor, there was one boy from Hufflepuff, and the albino twins and their red-head friend were the only three from Ravenclaw.

"Cella!" Blythe called across the pitch. The albino girl turned and waved.

"Hey, Blythe!" she called back. Turning to her brother and Kaldrian, she grabbed their hands and led them across the pitch towards where Blythe stood with her friends. Madam Thao had yet to appear, so they figured they had a few minutes.

"Long time no see," Blythe joked.

"Oh, yeah, only since Herbology this afternoon," her friend shot back.

Tom glanced over at Vincent to see him working his jaw as if he longed to throw insults or hexes at the mudblood, but instead settled for glaring. Tom smirked. He knew that Vincent was only behaving himself because Blythe would curse him into next week if he said anything.

"Tocelas, these are my friends from Slytherin: Stephen and Scott are the twins, the blonde is Vincent, Dagon's the one making the weird faces, and this one is Tom." Blythe gestured to Tom with a wave of her hand, and the albino girl's eyes immediately focused upon him. "Six Pack, this is Tocelas, her brother Tobias, and their friend Sean." Her voice alone was warning enough not to make any snide comments, and the look she shot over her shoulder convinced them.

"Hi," Tom said. He wasn't going to be enthusiastic, but that didn't mean he had to be completely mean about it. Maybe mudbloods weren't as horrid as Vincent claimed they were.

Tocelas and Tobias sized him up for a moment, but Sean didn't even glance his way. He was staring at Blythe with a vacant gaze that Tom recognized from that first day of duels in DADA with Vincent vs. Grinberg. He smirked again, and tuned in just in time to catch the girl's comment.

"Glad to see not all of you Slytherins are utter bigots."

Tom saw Vincent open his mouth to let loose a scalding retort, but he was cut off when a voice spoke from behind the three Ravenclaws.

"Of course they are, dear." It sounded familiar. "Just not around cute things such as yourself." The twins and Sean turned to see who was speaking, creating a gap between themselves and Blythe and allowing Asotin and his buddies to walk through. It was Grinberg who had spoken, as was becoming usual.

Tocelas arched one hardly visible eyebrow at the Gryffindors, looking past where Asotin stood in front of Will and Grinberg. She focused on the latter, knowing it had been he who had spoken.

"I think I'd prefer to be a lowly mudblood in the eyes of a Slytherin over a cute Ravenclaw any day," she shot back.

Grinberg stepped past Asotin, smiling his usual amused smile.

"And in the eyes of a Gryffindor?" he asked.

"Would that Gryffindor be you?"

"Of course," Grinberg said. "Who else?"

"Then I'd prefer the latter."

"The latter of the former?"

"No, the latter of the latter."

"So you'd prefer to be the former of the latter for a Slytherin, and the latter of the latter of a Gryffindor?"

"Precisely," Tocelas clarified.

"I see," said Grinberg. "Yes, that makes perfect sense. I feel the same way."

Tocelas was tapped on her shoulder by her twin, and he pointed across the field. Everyone followed the direction in which he pointed, spotting Madam Thao walking towards them with a line of broomsticks flying behind her. Upon reaching their group she stopped, lowering the brooms to the ground approximately five feet apart each. She looked to the students, then, and blew her whistle.

"Each of you grab a broom and do as we did last week with the 'up' command," she ordered. The students hastened to obey, and none of them had any problems getting their brooms in the air, mounting up and waiting for their next set of commands.

They were to hover for a few moments like they did last class, and as before there were no problems. Then the real flying started. Madam Thao taught them how to turn, go forward, ascend, descend, accelerate, and decelerate. They'd only been out for about an hour when she blew her whistle, calling them all to the ground.

"Because we have had no accidents so far, I have decided to move your lessons up by a week. You all seem to have the basic flying techniques down, and now I'm going to set up a few courses for you to test all of these skills. There will be three separate courses: a speed course, a reflex course, and a combination of the two. I want you to pair up with someone and decide which course you want to do first. There are…" she trailed off, quickly counting heads, "thirteen of you, so one of you will be partnered with me. Well, hop to it, find your partners!"

As was to be expected, both sets of twins claimed each other as partners, leaving the left-over Ravenclaw to partner with the Hufflepuff boy, and Tom and Dagon partnering together. Asotin and Will partnered up, leaving Grinberg, Blythe, and Vincent without a partner. It was a race to the girl for the two boys, and Grinberg was the one to get there first. Vincent fumed as Madam Thao took up position next to him, gathering the children's attention once more.

"Good. Now, as soon as I wave my wand, like so," she twirled her wand through the air in a show of complex movements, "the courses will appear and be ready for your use. They will, at first, appear to be just signs hovering in the air, but on the sign you will find instructions for what you are to do. There are to be just four of you at each course at a time, and only two of those four in the air for safety reasons. Find your groups and get started."

Madam Thao waved her wand through the air once more, and from the tip three smoky hazes started to appear. They took the shape of square signs, floating out across the pitch. Two headed towards the opposite ends while one stayed in the middle, and after a brief moment of silence the students dashed towards the course they wanted to take first.

Tom, Dagon, Blythe, and Grinberg claimed the speed course, finding the note on the sign just as Madam Thao said it would be. It read:

Speed Course

This course has been designed in order for you to test your speed on a racing broom. The purpose is to complete this course as swiftly as possible during a timed trial. You will go from the starting position, marked by an X, to the opposite end of the field, where you will find a gray pipe three feet in length. Pick up the pipe and return to the starting position, placing the pipe in the center of the X. Once there, the clock will stop. The lower the time, the better.

Blythe looked to the other boys in her group, waiting for them to finish reading. Her eyes danced lazily across the pitch, searching the other end for the pipe they were to find. She count it hovering about one hundred feet in the air right in front of the center hoop and nodded, turning back to face the boys to find they'd followed her gaze towards the pipe.

"Any of you lot want to go first, or would you prefer to know the time you can't beat before you go?" she asked with a smirk.

"Is that a challenge?" Grinberg retorted.

"Would I have asked if it wasn't?"

Tom rolled his eyes at Dagon and the two mounted up, kicking off into the air and flying in a circle above their housemate and her friend. Really, their constant challenges were getting to be quite irksome. Couldn't people do something just once without having to make it into a bet? He sighed in disgust, tuning back into the conversation in time to hear "loser does the winner's next History of Magic homework."

The two agreed to it and shook hands, Grinberg opting to go first and taking up his starting position. He kicked off from the ground as soon as Blythe shouted "go," hurtling towards the opposite end of the field on the old school broom. Even Tom, with his lack of wizarding knowledge, knew that the boy could have probably gone faster on a newer broom, and hoped that his own didn't lag as Grinberg's seemed to. The Gryffindor steadily ascended as he flew, gaining altitude until he was on the same level with the pipe and flattening himself along the handle. He seemed to pick up a bit of speed with that, and had soon taken hold of the pipe and was on his way back. Dropping the pipe down into the center of the X, the large clock that had appeared on the original sign stopped ticking, and showed Grinberg's speed at one minute and forty-seven point eight seconds.

"Not too shabby, Mark," Blythe called up to him as he did a victory loop around the goal posts. "especially for a school broom. However, I recommend you ready your quill for getting me my A plus." She gave him the customary Slytherin Smirk and took her place on the red X marking the ground. The pipe was back in its position at the end of the field, and with a shout of "go" from Grinberg, she was off.

Tom saw her race along the field, small frame held flat against the length of the broom just as Grinberg had done. She seemed to be going just a hair faster, but the whole idea of flying on a broom was new to Tom, and he wasn't entirely sure. The pipe enclosed tightly in one fist, she circled around the center goal post and doubled back.

It was when she was three-quarters of the way back that catastrophe struck.

Her broom, like it had a mind of its own, started bucking wildly in the air, doing its best to throw her off. Blythe hadn't ever had a broom act like this one was now, and with a startled shriek she fell, still one hundred feet off the ground and approaching it more swiftly than she'd have liked. Her robes billowed around her as she fell, wand dropping from her pocket as she twisted in the air to find a hand hold. She was out of luck.

"Blythe!" Tom, Dagon, and Grinberg shouted as one. Tom and Dagon were struck with the horrible thought of her dying upon hitting the ground, and could only gape as the Gryffindor tore across the field on his broom. They were quick to catch on, and they, too, zoomed towards her.

The ground was drawing ever nearer, closing in on Blythe like the giant monster that had scared her as a little girl. A scream was torn from her throat as she stared down at it.

Fifty feet.

Grinberg was no where near reaching her.

Forty feet.

He still had a ways to go.

Twenty five feet.

_Almost there…_

Ten feet.

Blythe closed her eyes to prepare for impact…

Five feet.

A set of arms wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her up onto another broomstick and holding her steady. She shivered, caught between the urge to sob and scream her throat raw. Face buried into Grinberg's cloak, she couldn't even pull away on her own as he landed on the ground, setting her on her feet as he had that time she'd slid down the banister, broom forgotten on the grass. And then, as if that wasn't bad enough, her knees buckled and she was once more scooped up into the Gryffindor's arms.

She couldn't even answer his urgent question of "are you all right?" and didn't open her eyes until Tom and Dagon shook her roughly. Teeth chattering, she was hard-pressed to even stammer out an "I'll be fine, I just need a moment."

Blythe had been terrified. She had been completely sure that her life was going to end in the moment she hit the ground, but she'd been once more snatched from death's jaws. Her body curled against her will, burying her face once more into that scarlet and gold crest to hide her moist eyes. Not only was she terrified, but not she was also humiliated. It wasn't bad enough that'd she'd screamed as she fell, but she'd been saved by a Gryffindor and was clinging to him like a child would. She hated herself for it.

Minutes passed, her three friend waiting to see if she'd be okay, failing to notice that all the other students were going about their flying lessons as if nothing was wrong. Finally Blythe turned her head back towards them, eyes rimmed in red and dirty streaks down her face.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean for this to happen and to ruin your evening. But I think I want to head back to the common room and to bed…C'you put me down, Mark?"

Grinberg slowly set her back down on her feet, keeping a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Are you sure you're okay, Blythe? We should walk you back to the common room," Dagon said worriedly.

"No, don't; you guys have a lesson to finish. I'll be fine," she insisted.

"And what if you collapse on your way back?" Tom asked dryly. Blythe opened her mouth to respond, but Grinberg got to it first.

"I'll walk her back. I lost my partner anyway, and already took my turn at the speed course. Besides which, neither of you two would be able to carry her back there if she did collapse, even though she's a tiny little thing." He smiled down at her, and couldn't resist cracking a joke. "You seemed to have made throwing yourself at my feet a habit, and I can use the ego boost."

Blythe smiled feebly as Tom and Dagon chuckled and finally relented to letting the Gryffindor accompany her. Tom turned back towards the speed course, frowning as Grinberg's last words rang in his head.


End file.
